God must have been smiling down on him to send such a pretty woman to be his wife.
The woman studied him for a long moment, but then she spun around, facing the stage.
Austin frowned. Was she going to get back on without even talking to him? Yes, she was much younger, but he had told her his age. He couldn’t let her leave without at least talking to her. “Miss Evans, wait!”
He started forward but stopped suddenly. Fred helped another woman exit the stage—a woman wearing a bonnet identical to Jenny’s and a dress the exact same color. She, too, wrestled with her skirts. Jenny adjusted the woman’s bonnet and whispered something to her. The second woman nodded, then Jenny stepped aside, took the other woman’s arm, and moved toward him in unison. Both women looked up at the same time. Austin’s heart thumped. They were exactly alike. A matched pair. Identical twins.
It suddenly dawned on him that in the two letters Jenny had written, she’d said nothing about being a twin. She also hadn’t mentioned bringing her sister with her. Austin glanced past them, wondering if perhaps his Jenny was still on the stage, but Fred had climbed onto the bench and was gathering the reins. Grinning wide, he winked at Austin and mouthed, “Good luck.”
The women moved as one toward him.
It was obvious that Jenny hadn’t told him everything. What else had she omitted mentioning besides her sister?
And which gal was his bride?
Chapter Two
Rebekah watched several different expressions shift across the man’s features. Was he not Stephen Hart? She looked around behind him and over her shoulder but saw no other man focused on them. If he was Jenny’s fiancé, why did he look so confused?
Jenny’s steps slowed, but Rebekah all but dragged her sister toward the man. If he wasn’t Mr. Hart, perhaps he could direct them to the man. She stopped a good six feet from him.
His gaze shifted from her to Jenny and back. Had he never seen identical twins before? That seemed unlikely, but it certainly would explain his perplexing behavior.
But if he were Mr. Hart, why would he look so befuddled? Unless … She leaned toward her sister. “You did mention I was accompanying, didn’t you?”
Jenny visibly swallowed. Then she lifted her chin, flashed a coy grin, and shrugged.
Rebekah’s heart clenched. Jenny didn’t tell him. What if he had no place for her to stay? A surprise like this certainly wasn’t a good way to start off a relationship.
Quickly composing herself, she struggled for a friendly expression. She sure didn’t want the man standing in front of her to think she was upset with him. He stood tall, wearing an air of authority. He hadn’t worn a suit, but his white shirt and dark pants looked new and of a good quality. A thin layer of dust clung to his boots, but the shine from a recent polishing was still there. And this man was handsome, with his dark, assessing eyes and black hair. His shoulders looked wide enough to bear any woman’s problems. If he was Stephen Austin Hart, Jenny was a fortunate woman. A shaft of envy pierced her.
The man smiled, albeit a tad bit wobbly. “Ladies, I’m Austin Hart. I’m sure hoping one of you is Jenny Evans.”
Her sister stiffened, but she lifted her hand as if responding to a schoolteacher. “I–I’m Jenny.”
Rebekah hated the way her sister’s voice trembled. Hated that she had to leave her here when Jenny was so apprehensive, but it was better than them both being on the streets, trying to get by on their own. There were few decent jobs for women, and she was determined they wouldn’t end up working in a saloon—or worse.
The man looked a tad bit relieved and slapped his hat back on his head. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He glanced at Rebekah again, his dark eyebrows dipping? “And you are?”
“Oh, my apologies. I’m Jenny’s older sister, Rebekah Grace Evans.”
“Older by only six minutes,” Jenny mumbled her normal response.
Mr. Hart shuffled his feet. “I don’t mean to stare, ma’am, but I didn’t realize Jenny had a twin, nor was I expecting you—so forgive me if I seem caught off guard.” He glanced toward their luggage. “I’d best move your things out of the road.” He trod toward the pile of trunks and satchels.
Mortification marched through Rebekah again as she watched him stride off. She spun toward her sister. “I find it hard to believe you failed to mention you were a twin, but you also omitted the fact that I was accompanying you? Jenny, that’s unconscionable.”
“I was afraid he’d say no if he knew there were two of us coming.”
“But I’m not staying. Only until the wedding.” Rebekah blew out a sigh, tired of having to fix Jenny’s messes. From what her sister had read to her of the few letters Mr. Hart had written, he was in charge of a big ranch and a large family. She had a feeling he didn’t like being unprepared for any reason. It made sense he’d appreciate knowing what he was up against.
She closed her eyes, once more searching for a thread of composure then she turned and moved toward the big man who lifted one of their heavy trunks as easily as if it were a five-pound sack of flour and set it on the boardwalk. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Hart. I’m sure I can find a place in town to stay.” As long as the room was inexpensive—and food didn’t cost extra.
He shook his head. “No need, ma’am. I’ve booked a couple of rooms at the hotel, and once we go home, our house has plenty of space. You’re welcome there.”
His kindness was quite generous and appreciated. She lifted her head, looking straight into Mr. Hart’s deep brown eyes. Lines creased the edges of his eyes, as if he laughed a lot. The sun had darkened his skin to a pleasing bronze. A sudden dryness coated her mouth that she was sure was not related to the dust blowing in the warm breeze. She cleared her throat. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
A gentle smile lifted his lips. “It’s no bother, ma’am. I didn’t plan for two, but I will now that I know you’re here.”
She wasn’t completely sure what he meant. The relentless sun beat down, heating her whole body. Jenny was right that the temperature felt much warmer here in southern Texas. The tiny bonnets that were popular in Missouri did little to shade them from the sun.
“I think I might swoon if we have to stand out here much longer.” Jenny dabbed her face with her handkerchief.
“My apologies. Let’s get you two inside.” Mr. Hart swatted his hand at the pile of baggage. “Which of these are the most important? We can take them now, and I’ll get the trunks later.”
Jenny gasped. “We can’t go off and leave our possessions unattended. Everything I own is in them.”
Rebekah motioned to Jenny to quiet down. Her sister often made a mountain out of a molehill.
“Your belongings will be safe here.” Mr. Hart motioned his hand toward the building behind them. “The people in Hartville are good, decent folk. They won’t bother your things.”
“Well, I suppose it will be all right—if you’re certain.” Jenny looked less than convinced.
“I am.” He nodded, his lips pressed tight together. Mr. Hart gathered their four satchels, two in each hand. “The hotel isn’t far. Just follow me, and I’ll have you out of this heat in a minute or two.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hart. That will be nice.” Rebekah started after him with her sister lagging behind. She glanced over her shoulder and motioned with her head for Jenny to join her. She obliged, but her expression had yet to lose its sour pucker. “Don’t you like him?”
Though Jenny shrugged, Rebekah was sure her sister’s eyes were on her future husband’s back.
“Jen–nyyy. He’s a nice man—and quite good-looking,” she whispered. “Don’t you think?”
Jenny blew out a sigh. “I suppose—in a rugged sort of way.”
“He doesn’t look much different than the cowboys we saw in Missouri.”
“But I wasn’t expected to marry one of them.”
“You’re the one who accepted Mr. Hart’s proposal.” This had to work. She needed to see her s
ister settled in a home with a good man so she could return to Arcadia and her future. She decided to pull out the big guns. “Besides, you don’t want to end up working in Toby Nelson’s saloon, with all those half-drunk men leering at you every night, do you?”
Jenny’s expression instantly changed. “No. Of course not.”
“Then paste on a smile and give your beau some encouragement before he changes his mind.”
“Fine.” Jenny lifted her chin as if strengthening her resolve. “I’ll bat my lashes and win his heart, if that’s what it takes.”
Rebekah sighed. “Just be friendly. Talk to him.”
Mr. Hart stopped at an open door to one of the larger buildings in town. “Here we go, ladies.”
Rebekah turned into the hotel lobby, delighted to be out of the hot sun, although the temperature inside was only marginally cooler. She wished they’d worn more summery clothing, but with it being October, she’d chosen their normal autumn wear. As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, she noticed the clerk staring at her and Jenny from behind the registration counter. She should be used to people’s stares since she’d been a twin her whole life, but they still made her uncomfortable.
Mr. Hart strode past her and set their satchels down. “I had two rooms reserved, Hank, but I’ll be needing a third, if you have it.”
She rushed forward. “Jenny and I can share a room. We always do.”
Mr. Hart turned toward her. “Are you sure? It’s not necessary.”
“Yes. Please. We’d prefer it actually.”
Something warm flickered in his eyes, but he faced the clerk again. “Just the two then.”
The clerk slid one key across the counter. “I’ll put the ladies in the room across the hall from yours, Mr. Hart. It’s also at the back of the building, away from the street.”
Rebekah wondered if everyone in town knew Mr. Hart. It made sense since the town was probably named for his family and they more than likely visited it regularly. She appreciated the fact that their room wouldn’t face the street, not that the town was overly noisy. Just the opposite, from what she’d seen so far, but they had passed a saloon, so cowboys would probably fill the streets come evening.
“Would you ladies like to take a seat in the restaurant while I run your bags upstairs?”
“I can take care of the baggage, Mr. Hart.” The clerk stepped out from behind the counter. “You tend to the ladies.” The man actually chuckled. “I’m guessin’ one of them pretty gals is your bride—or Bowie’s. Or maybe both! Now that Crockett’s wed his bride, you two’s the only ones left unmarried.”
Mr. Hart slowly turned toward the man and lifted one brow. He stared at the clerk until the man squirmed.
“Uh … sorry, Austin—I mean, Mr. Hart.” He snatched a bag and grabbed a second one. “I’ll just see to the ladies’ baggage.”
“There are a couple of trunks out front of my brother’s medical office. If you have someone to assist you, I’d appreciate if you’d fetch them. If not, I can help you later, or maybe Travis and I can see to the task.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of them.”
Mr. Hart gave a brief nod then held out his elbows to her and Jenny. “Shall we eat, ladies? I imagine the stage food hasn’t been the best at times.”
“That’s an understatement,” Jenny mumbled as she tucked her arm through Mr. Hart’s. Rebekah felt odd touching her sister’s fiancé, but it would be rude to refuse his kind gesture. “That sounds lovely.” She lightly reached her hand around his upper arm, unprepared for the jolt of awareness that bolted through her as she touched his muscular bicep. What was wrong with her? She’d never had such a reaction to a man before.
As they entered the dining room, the clink of silverware and soft buzz of conversation suddenly stopped as all eyes followed them to a table in the back of the room. Mr. Hart held out the chairs for both of them. He selected the chair at the end of the table, so that he sat next to her and Jenny. The room was deathly quiet. Jenny glanced at her, and then around the room.
Mr. Hart blew out a loud breath and stood again. He glanced from table to table, where four groups of people sat. “What’s wrong? Y’all never seen twins before?” He swatted his hand in the air. “Go on back to your eating.”
Almost as one, people started dining and quietly talking, although they still shot glances their way. Mr. Hart sat again. “Sorry about all of that. People here are naturally curious about strangers, especially two pretty ones like yourselves.”
Rebekah was thankful for the low lighting at the back of the room, which she hoped hid the blush that unwillingly rose to her cheeks at Mr. Hart’s compliment. Very rarely had anyone said she was pretty, other than her father.
“I get the feeling there’s more to their stares than curiosity about strangers.” Jenny pursed her lips.
Mr. Hart fidgeted—she thought—but a heavyset woman hurrying toward them with a plate of biscuits snagged her interest. The woman set the plate on the table.
“Good to see you again, Austin. Welcome to Hartville, ladies. What can I get for y’all today? Our special is pot roast, but we have tamales, ham and beans, and chicken and dumplings, too.”
“Thanks, Tillie. Ladies, the food here is some of the best you’ll ever eat, so don’t be shy.”
“I’ll take the chicken and dumplings, please.” Rebekah smiled at the friendly woman.
“I’d like the pot roast. I suppose there’s more than just the meat?” Jenny stared at Tillie.
“Most certainly. There’s potatoes, carrots, onions, and gravy.”
Jenny nodded. “That sounds fine.”
Rebekah wished her sister would be kinder. What would they do if Austin Hart decided he didn’t want a persnickety wife? By his pursed lips, she’d guess he wasn’t too pleased with Jenny at the moment. He lifted his gaze and smiled. “I’d like some of your delicious tamales, please. And coffee.”
“You’re in luck. I still have a half dozen or so, even though luncheon is nearly over.” She bustled away and into the back room.
Silence stretched uncomfortably, and Rebekah searched for something to say. “Can I ask what a tamale is? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that.”
Austin’s gaze shifted to her. “It’s a Mexican dish made of a cornmeal type of crust with seasoned meat in the center, all cooked inside a cornhusk. They’re quite tasty.”
“It sounds delicious. I suppose since you’re rather close to Mexico here, that must influence your food and customs some.”
He nodded. “That’s true, although as you heard from Tillie, we have regular food, too.”
“Isn’t Mexican food spicy hot?” Jenny asked.
He shrugged. “It can be, but not all of it is. Depends on the cook.”
Tillie scurried back to the table, carrying two glasses of water and a cup of coffee. Once she’d set them down, she looked at Jenny and then Rebekah. “I also have some sweet tea, if you’d care for a glass.”
“I would love some.” Rebekah smiled.
Jenny shook her head. “Water is fine for me.”
After another minute of silence, Jenny shot her a “help” look then mouthed, “Say something.”
“Um … would you tell us about your family, Mr. Hart?”
“Sure, but call me Austin. There are eight Mr. Harts, and it will get confusing if you keep calling me that, as well as my brothers.”
She felt odd calling him by his Christian name, but nodded anyway. “Very well, Austin.”
He smiled, loosing a mob of butterflies in her stomach. Oh, dear. This was not good.
“As I told Jenny in my letters”—he shot her sister a smile—“I have six brothers, all younger than me. My mother is gone, but Father is still alive and determined to see us all married before he dies. Five of my brothers have complied, but Bowie, the second oldest, and I are still unmarried—but not for long, I hope.” He stared intently at Jenny, but her sister ducked her head, her cheeks beaming red.
Rebekah hoped he wasn’t marrying Jenny just to please his father. That sure wasn’t the basis of a good marriage.
“Where do all your brothers and wives live?” she asked as she buttered a hot biscuit.
He stirred a spoon of sugar into his coffee. “Most all of them have built houses on their own land, which surrounds the big house.” He took a sip from his cup. “Think of the main house and land surrounding it as the hub of a wheel with my brothers’ land as the spokes. Sometimes on special occasions, all my brothers and their wives stay overnight at the big house.”
“Your home sounds lively.”
“It sure can be at times, especially when everyone is there.”
Rebekah liked the idea that Jenny would have other women near her, especially women who were newly wed, too—and to Austin’s brothers. It would give them all something in common and make her sister feel less uncomfortable and alone. If only she had someone to make her feel that way.
A commotion at the front door drew her gaze. Three women glided in, all talking at once. Austin glanced over his shoulder, coughed, then turned his back to them. If she wasn’t mistaken, Jenny’s tough tanned cowboy had suddenly gone pale.
One lady pointed toward a table, glanced their direction and then away. Her eyes instantly flicked back toward them. She spun around and whispered something to the other two, who also stared. Rebekah’s grip tightened on her glass as they turned as one in their direction and then hurried across the room, all the time staring with curiosity. They circled the back of Austin’s chair as his head lowered.
“Why, Austin Hart. Fancy meeting you here.”
Chapter Three
As Austin shot to his feet, he felt a noose tightening around his neck. All his efforts to keep his bride a secret was for naught. He glanced at Jenny and Rebekah, both brimming with curiosity, then forced a smile and turned to face his sisters-in-law. “Afternoon, Coralee. Annie. Emma.”
Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection Page 41