Thankfully, the service was short. Chevonne was relieved when it was over and they spilled out the wide church doors where the air was fresh even though the temperature was not much cooler.
The Garners and Celia and her husband Gary stood in a cluster off to the side of the crowd of parishioners. Trey stayed close to Chevonne, which made her feel warm, wanted and safe. But when Sarah Perkins strolled by, and her eyes drank in Trey’s tall form, Chevonne felt a pang of jealousy.
Trey glanced at Sarah then pointedly held onto Chevonne’s hand. Sarah’s eyes darkened and she turned away quickly. Chevonne almost felt sorry for her. Almost. The warm feeling of holding Trey’s hand banished any jealousy she had felt.
Celia linked arms with Chevonne and whispered, “Did you get a chance to use any of your new fabrics?”
The question reminded Chevonne of Iona’s reticule. Chevonne reached into her bag and pulled out the small purse. “I have a few projects going,” she told Celia, “but I managed to fix your purse, Mrs. Garner.” Chevonne held the purse out to her mother-in-law.
Iona Garner looked at the purse skeptically. She reached out and took it, then turned it over in her hand, inspecting it carefully. A small smile formed on her lips, much to Chevonne’s surprise. “Why, this is lovely work.” Iona’s eyes lit up as she fingered the lace detail. “This lace reminds me of some of the finer work back in Philadelphia.”
Celia admired the reticule too. “Yes, it does.” She sighed. “I do so miss some of the finer things. Don’t you, Mother?”
Iona nodded and Chevonne felt a surge of delight. If her in-laws wanted finer things, she would certainly be able to supply that. Suddenly she felt very excited to get a good working design—though she realized by the uncomfortable position of the undergarments she was now wearing that it would be a while before she could present them to anyone.
“Maybe we could convince Chevonne to make us some dresses?” Celia confessed, “I’m afraid my skills at sewing leave a bit to be desired.”
“I’d be happy to help you out.” Chevonne tilted her head, a gleam in her eyes. “In fact, I have some new designs that I may want to try out on the both of you.”
Iona’s brows lifted in surprise. “Oh, really? I like to try out new designs. Now that the big pioneer rush is over, I think we are going to see the women here turning to the more feminine designs like they have back east.” She smiled at Chevonne. “At least I hope so.”
Chevonne guessed that was Iona Garner’s way of apologizing for being so snooty at the restaurant. Well, apology accepted.
“Like Anna’s.” Celia nodded in the direction of the stylish woman Chevonne had noticed in the church.
“Who is that?” Chevonne asked.
Celia whispered, “That’s Anna Overholser. She married Henry Overholser who built a lot of this town. She’s the hub of society. Shall I introduce you?”
Chevonne dearly wanted to be introduced to the woman who could have a profound influence on other women in town. But Anna and her husband were getting into their buggy and Chevonne didn’t want to bother the woman right now. But she would bother her when she had something concrete to show her. “Later.” Chevonne nodded toward the buggy. “It looks like she’s heading home.”
“So, how is married life?” Buck Garner asked.
His wagging eyebrows left little to the imagination and brought a flush to Chevonne’s cheeks. She glanced up at Trey. Were his cheeks flushed, too?
Trey kept his eyes steady on his father. “It’s been a little bit of an adjustment, but I think it’s gonna work out.”
Everyone’s eyes shifted to Chevonne.
“Yes, an adjustment. Things are a little different here than back home so there’s been a lot to adjust to, not just to being married.”
“Well, it seems like you’re adjusting real good.” Trey smiled down at her, then turned back to his father. “She’s a darn good cook and has been putting some nice homey touches around the house. She ran up curtains for the whole place in one afternoon.”
Chevonne beamed at the compliment, then her brows snapped together in a frown. Did he expect a wife to be just a cook and homemaker? Chevonne knew she could be much more than that—she was a designer and inventor. If she ever married for real, she would be sure her husband understood and valued that.
“Well, I’m sure you kids will get used to married life,” Iona said. “It took Celia and Gary a few months, didn’t it?”
Celia blushed and linked arms with her husband. “It did. But now it’s wonderful. I hope that you two will experience the same joy we have.” She gave silent Gary a kiss on his cheek.
That made thoughts of her kiss with Trey drift up to the forefront of Chevonne’s mind. She didn’t dare look at him at that moment.
Talk turned to the weather, summer crops and cattle. Chevonne’s heart warmed at the easy way Trey’s family pulled her into the conversation. For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged to a big family.
Her parents had died when she was young so it had always been just Gram and Chevonne. Having a circle of people you could depend on instead of just one person was something she could get used to. It was too bad this wasn’t real. Actually, it would have been better if Trey’s family were horrible, then she wouldn’t feel so guilty about deceiving them.
She chanced a look up at Trey, her heart jolting when their eyes met. His eyes were full of deep emotion which made her want to take him into her confidence about everything. Thoughts of the locked study and the strange alarm she’d tripped over drifted into her mind, however.
Wait a minute.
Was Trey keeping something from her? Something he didn’t trust her enough to talk about? And if he couldn’t trust her, then why should she trust him?
* * *
A warm sensation swirled in Trey’s chest as he watched Chevonne interact with his family. He’d never thought much about family. He knew now that he’d pretty much taken his for granted, and had even shunned them far too often. But with Chevonne at his side, family seemed like just what he wanted in his life now.
When he first sent away for a mail-order bride, he didn’t really care if his family approved of her. Heck, if he’d had his way, he wouldn’t even have introduced them. But his mother would have had none of that.
Iona Garner was a harsh judge and Trey knew she suspected that he wasn’t going to make a whole-hearted go at a real marriage. He knew his mother didn’t approve of how he’d found a bride, and he’d feared that she wouldn’t approve of Chevonne, but it looked like his new wife was winning his mother over.
He could tell Iona was warming up to Chevonne because she kept fiddling with the lace on the reticule Chevonne had repaired, and she kept smiling down at it. He knew that his mother liked to act tough, but that she was just a softy on the inside, and full of concern for her family’s happiness.
Trey was surprised, and a little scared, at how easy it was to act like a real married couple in public. Chevonne did a great job, and he supposed that was what made it easy.
Of course, her good looks didn’t hurt, either. The sensual, flowery scent of her was sure distracting too, in a nice way. It wasn’t just the scent. Her skin practically glowed and her hair had taken on a lustrous sheen. It glinted in the sun.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah Perkins dart a disapproving look at Chevonne. Lucky thing he didn’t married Sarah. He would never have caved to his mother’s wishes, but still, the thought gave him pause. He couldn’t imagine having to kiss her or even spend time talking to her.
But wasn’t that what he had wanted in his wife-of-convenience? His eyes flicked from Sarah to Chevonne. Was there an emotional element to his fake marriage? The kiss had heated his blood, but it wasn’t just that. He enjoyed talking to Chevonne especially about the future and new inventions. He even enjoyed just being with her—sitting in companionable silence in the buggy, or eating breakfast and supper together in the kitchen.
Wasn’t that bet
ter than a marriage-of-convenience, to be with a woman he wanted to have as a partner in life, someone he could share his ideas, hopes and dreams with?
It might be better, but could he ever have that with Chevonne? No, not until he told her everything about his real passions, his real plans, and his inventions in his laboratory.
Unfortunately, his experiments had been failures thus far. He didn’t want to tell her about his project until he had something that actually worked. He wanted her to be proud of him, to see that shine in her eyes like when he’d shown her the bath screen he’d designed and crafted for her, and when she’d toured the house he’d designed, and when she’d seen how well-stocked and equipped he’d made his kitchen for her. He wanted Chevonne to be proud of her husband.
Suddenly Trey couldn’t wait to get home and get to work on his project. He had another idea that might just do the trick and if it did, he would share it all with Chevonne. He would tell her everything and take that first step on the path to making her his real wife.
He prayed she wanted that too and that there was nothing that would stand in their way.
Chapter 14
Later that night, Chevonne sat in her room contemplating her grandmother’s designs. The knickers that she’d worn to church that day had bunched up in all the wrong places, so she was adjusting them by hand, with a needle and thread, to see if she could improve them.
Looking over Gram’s sketches, she couldn’t figure out where she’d gone wrong. Some of the designs were a lot skimpier than the one she had sewn, but she didn’t dare make any of those yet. Her plan was to introduce people to the less risqué designs before going full out with the shorter undergarments and matching corsets which were also much skimpier than anything currently for sale.
She was having a hard time focusing, though. Her mind kept going over the events of the day. The effect that the closeness of Trey’s family had had on her had been surprising. She hadn’t realized being part of the family was so important to her. But now she had a yearning for it. Maybe even to start a family of her own...
With Trey?
She had to admit he warmed her heart. Not just because he looked devastatingly handsome in his church clothes, and smelled lovely with his spicy scent. Perhaps it was the way he’d hovered close to her, protectively, that had made her pulse skitter.
Trey was a great kisser. That thought kept popping up uninvited. She pushed the memory aside and thought about how she liked talking to him. He was a forward thinker. They had a common bond in that area.
Though she had to admit she was a little put off by the way he’d said he liked her cooking and making the house homey. She wasn’t one of those women that would be happy doing nothing but waiting on her husband. Although she did like making a nice home, and she loved the shine in his eyes and his smile when she served up their meals, and when he’d hung the curtains around the house.
He was certainly a good provider. She didn’t really think he was the type of man that expected the woman to wait on him hand and foot. Just the other morning he’d waited on her, cooking breakfast so that she didn’t have to stand on her injured ankle. He was even going to bring her breakfast in bed. And he had been thoughtful enough to provide her with a hot compress, and the bath screen.
He had been oddly silent after church, though. Not that she minded—she’d been lost in her own world. They’d ridden home together and then he’d gone out to check on some things around the ranch, returning home just before supper.
They’d had a meal of soup, the last of his sister’s vegetables with a meat pie made from the remains of the roast, and the ribbon jelly for dessert that she’d served with some sweetened whipped cream.
The conversation had been light, but that could have been because Trey was enjoying the food so much. Actually, they both had seemed distracted. She wondered what Trey could possibly be distracted about. Certainly they weren’t the same things that were distracting her.
After supper he’d retired early, locking himself in that mysterious study of his. Why was he so secretive about the study? Or was it just her imagination?
She felt a sharp pin prick of pain as the needle stabbed her index finger. “Ouch!” She brought the finger to her lips, sucking on it as she inspected the seam she was stitching. All the stitches were uneven and would have to be ripped out.
Chevonne threw the piece on the bed. It was no use trying to work. She was too distracted by thoughts of Trey and whatever was going on in that room downstairs. And besides, the dim light of the lantern made it hard to see what she was sewing.
She opened her door and crept down the stairs. The house was quiet. The stairway was dark. Luckily the full moon slanted silvery light through the windows, allowing Chevonne to see where she was going. Luckily she’d opened all the shades and the tops of the sash windows to let in the cool night air.
Where was she going?
Was she going to sneak around and spy on her pretend husband, or would she boldly knock on the study door? It wasn’t so late that he would be asleep—at least she didn’t think so. She had no idea when he went to bed.
Chevonne got to the bottom of the stairs and paused near the foyer, her confidence evaporating. This was silly. What was she doing? She rearranged the flowers in the jar that she’d put there just a few days earlier. Had she only been there for a few days? It seemed like forever.
A strange bubbling noise came from the end of the hall. What was that? The noise drew her toward it. She crept along the hall, her eyes glued to the closed study door. She paused in front of it, leaning slowly forward to put her ear against the solid wood.
Creek!
Her heart jolted in panic. Shuffling sounds came from inside the room. Trey was coming to the door! Chevonne jumped back just before he yanked the door open, his face an angry glare. His eyes widened as his gaze focused on her illuminated in the light from the room.
“Chevonne, what are you doing here?”
“Umm ... I ... I thought I heard something.”
She flicked her gaze past him to see into the room, but not fast enough. He came into the hallway, quickly closing the door behind him.
Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her. The tiny sliver of the room that she’d seen seemed to be set up with copper tubing and glass beakers.
“A noise?” Trey glanced behind him in the direction of the loud bubbling noise. “I don’t hear anything.”
Chevonne grimaced in irritation at his lie. “You hear nothing?”
“Another raccoon, perhaps?” Trey joked.
Chevonne couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe.”
She stared at him for several heartbeats. She knew she should go back to her room, but his presence was like a magnet. A tingle of electricity charged through her. His eyes softened. She swayed closer as if pushed by some unseen force. He took a step toward her and now they were almost touching. His head dipped, his lips coming closer. Chevonne held her breath, her eyes shutting as she waited for his lips to touch hers.
Crash!
They both whirled to face the study door. The crash had come from inside.
“What was that? Is someone in there?” Chevonne demanded to know.
“No. I mean yes.” Trey stammered, “The goat. Daisy.” He looked as shocked as Chevonne by that answer.
“You keep a goat in there?”
Trey ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes darting from her to the door. “She’s a pet. Since I was a boy. I’d better go in alone, though. She likes company, but only mine.” He inched the door open.
Chevonne waited, curious to see this non-existent goat. She’d never heard of such a thing as keeping one in the house. And she would have heard it making noise with its hooves on the wooden floor, and that would certainly not sound like bubbling noises, the kind of noise that came from copper tubes in beakers.
Her curiosity was not satisfied because Trey inched the door open and quickly slipped inside, his body blocking any view. He then poked his hea
d out and said sheepishly, “Good night. Sorry to disturb you.” And with that he shut the door in her face.
Chevonne was left to wonder what in the world was going on with her husband. Had he lost his mind?
Chapter 15
Trey looked out the barn door and rubbed his hand through his hair as he watched the sun rise over the eastern section of the ranch.
Had he really claimed the crash in his study last night was made by a goat?
Had he lost his mind?
Had Chevonne believed him?
The look on her face when he’d told that whopper told him she’d thought he was crazy. And now, this morning, he couldn’t even face her. He didn’t know what to say to her, which was why he was saddling up his horse and heading into town to pick up some chemicals for his project.
He needed time to think.
Chevonne was smart. She knew something strange was going on in the study, but that wasn’t his real problem. His real problem was that, judging by the way his body reacted whenever he was close to her, he was not going to be able to stop himself from kissing her and wanting to maker her his real wife.
But he didn’t feel right about that while keeping his project a secret from her. It would be like a big lie between them which he knew in the long run would ruin everything. But he didn’t want to tell her about it until he had something concrete to show her. He didn’t want her to think he was a failure.
Too bad last night’s experiments had resulted in a solution that was only marginally better than before. The crash that had interrupted their kiss was a testament to that.
As he rode away from the ranch, he glanced back at the house. Upstairs, Chevonne was still asleep. He wondered what she would think of him when she awoke. He’d shut the door in her face after telling her he had a goat in his room.
A goat!
Chevonne: Bride of Oklahoma (American Mail-Order Bride 46) Page 9