Cassandra (Bride Brigade Book 3)

by Caroline Clemmons

  Folding his legs, he sat facing her. “Fire feels good. Thanks for getting it going.”

  She winced at a particularly loud rumble of thunder and the clap of lightning that sounded as if it struck just outside the cabin. “I’m sorry you got so wet. Are the horses and buggy all right?”

  “The horses are dry under the shed. The buggy will have to take the storm.”

  “I hope your boss won’t be angry with you for getting his rig wet and us using the cabin.”

  “Naw, he won’t mind. Hope Lydia won’t be worried about you being caught in the storm.”

  “I’m sure she knows you wouldn’t let me come to harm.”

  He shook his head. “Sweetheart, if she saw us now, she’d be plenty worried. She’d have a shotgun at my back until we got to the preacher and were wed.”

  Horrified, she gasped. “Oh, no, I don’t want any man forced to marry me.”

  “You know I want you for a wife, so you can guess no one would have to force me. Still, that’s not the way I want us to start out. I want you to decide for certain I’m the one you want.”

  “Thank you, Sam.” She’d better change the subject before he said more on that subject. “What do we have to eat?”

  Lifting the lid, he pulled out a red-checked tablecloth and laid it aside. Spreading a napkin in front of each of them, he then set a plate, cup, and eating utensils on the napkin. “Hope you don’t mind, looks like Martha sent fried chicken again.”

  “Probably because it travels well for a picnic. And I love it, so there’s no problem as far as I’m concerned.”

  Opening containers, he called out each one’s contents. “We have deviled eggs, peach cobbler, pickled beets, sliced potatoes fried with onions and bacon, bread, and apple cider.”

  “I may have to turn my back to you. I don’t know how I’m going to eat and hold this blanket around me.”

  “I thought of that.” He stood and grabbed the tablecloth before he came around behind her. “I’ll tie this around your neck so you won’t have to worry about protecting your modesty.”

  When he’d finished, she tucked the tablecloth under the blanket. She could use her hands without revealing her unmentionables. “Thank you, Sam. I’m as hungry as if I’d worked hard all day.”

  “You let me serve the plates this time.” He dished up a lot of food.

  She held up her hand. “Whoa, if that’s for me. I’m not that hungry.”

  “Bet you will be when you start eating.” He filled their cups with cider before he served his own plate and dug in.

  She closed her eyes as she chewed a bite and swallowed. “This is wonderful. I’ve never in my life had such delicious chicken.”

  He laughed and pointed a drumstick at her. “Cassie, the taste is the same as our last picnic. You’re just hungry and wet and tired.”

  “I admit you’re right about my condition, but I’m sure this food is tastier than last week’s. I feel guilty that you were soaked caring for the horses while I was in the cabin.”

  “I should have checked the barometer before I called for you. Because I was so eager to spend time with you, I was careless.”

  She couldn’t keep from smiling. “That’s a nice thing to say. Tell me more about Tarnation and Texas.”

  “You’ve probably heard it all now. You know William Harrison was responsible for naming the town, or what passed for one when he first came out here. That was before my time but I’ve heard the story.”

  “Lydia shared it with us before we left Virginia.” She giggled. “Can you imagine how surprised he must have been when he returned and found his careless remark was responsible for the town’s name?”

  He laughed with her. “Reckon he was, at that. Odd name, but guess it’s as good as any other. As good as Lickskillett or Dime Box and those are Texas towns.”

  “I guess all states have some unusual town names.”

  At the side of the basket, he pulled out three books. “You mentioned you enjoy reading, so I thought you might like to borrow these. They belonged to my mother.”

  She accepted the well-read volumes from him with care. “How kind of you to remember, and to share your dear mother’s books with me is more than generous.” The large volume was Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. Two slim volumes were titled Poems and were by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

  “Mother read the poems so much I’m surprised the pages aren’t more worn. She especially liked number forty-two in the second volume.”

  Cassandra turned to the poem he’d indicated and sensed the heat of a blush suffused her cheeks. “How Do I Love Thee? Your mother was indeed a romantic, wasn’t she?”

  He leaned his elbows on his crossed legs. “A family failing I’m afraid. She and my father were devoted to one another, but still found plenty of time for their children. I was lucky to be part of such a loving family.”

  She closed the poetry book. “My family was closely knit, too. We lived with my grandparents because my father was to take over the business. Sadly, the war devastated that and the taxes afterward changed our finances drastically.”

  “The same for many Southern families. I suppose Northern ones too. I’m sorry your family was in distress.”

  She stacked the books at her side. “We would have been all right but for the fire. I suppose Trenton and I were lucky we weren’t home, but I wasn’t so sure for a while.”

  “But you found a new home with the Heathington’s. I’m grateful you were kind enough to aid an ailing friend, for it saved your life. Cassie sweetheart, I’m sure you’re my soul mate. I pray you’ll recognize that fact and not give in to Tucker’s wealth and a life in a fine house in town.”

  She met his gentle brown gaze. “I promise I’ll give you my answer on Saturday.”

  He exhaled with a shrug. “Then I’ll have to wait until Saturday. In the meantime, I intend to enjoy our time together today.”

  She looked up as another loud thunderclap sounded overhead. “The storm doesn’t appear to be diminishing.”

  “The rain doesn’t matter so much but we can’t leave until the lightning stops. We might as well make ourselves comfortable.” He replaced the remaining food into the basket and set it and the books aside. “You might as well stretch out and take a nap.” As if to emphasize his words, he stretched out on the narrow mattress.

  She didn’t know what to think or do. “Take a nap? I-I don’t think us napping on this mattress together is proper.”

  “Sweetheart, nothing about this situation appears proper, but no one but us will ever know.” He patted the spot beside him.

  She agreed with his statement. “All right, I guess just resting won’t hurt anything.” Tentatively, she lay down beside him. She knew she should refuse but the temptation to be near him was too great.

  He slid his arm under her head and tucked her against him. His blanket had fallen aside and her head rested on his bare shoulder. His skin was warm against her cheek.

  Shocked and thrilled at the same time, she curled against him. She was more secure than ever before in her life. Heat shot through her and she tingled from her head to her toes. Was this what she would feel sleeping beside her husband?

  He whispered against her hair, “Relax, Cassie sweetheart. We’re cocooned here in our own world. No one else exists right now.”

  Without further deliberation, she relaxed. “I guess I am sleepy after all that food.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “A short rest and maybe by then the lightning will have stopped.”

  The sensations overwhelming her were anything but restful. With one of his arms as her pillow and the other resting just under her breasts, she imagined the picture they’d present if someone saw them. Her with the ridiculous tablecloth tied around her neck and a flimsy blanket and him with no shirt and a blanket loosely around him.

  If this weren’t a serious breach of propriety, she didn’t know what was. Although Sam wanted to marry her, she still couldn’t make up her mind. When she was with h
im, she was content and happy, but living in this cabin offered no appeal. And what about Trenton? Where would he fit in?

  Although being near Bart hardly offered the sensations swirling through her now, he was a more practical choice for a husband. He could offer everything she’d longed for the past five years. He could help Trenton get a good education for a secure future.

  Sam caressed her cheek. “Honey, you’re thinking when you’re supposed to be resting. What has you so worried?”

  “I was thinking about my brother. I hope he’s all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be? Isn’t he still with your kin?”

  “Yes, but I can’t help worrying that he might not be happy. If he took off or tried to follow me on his own, there’s no telling what scrapes he could encounter.”

  “Worrying won’t do anything to help him. Have you written him?”

  “Yes, and he’s written me. I guess I’m being an old mother hen, aren’t I?”

  “A bit, but I understand since there’s just the two of you now. I guess the Heathington family members aren’t dear to you, are they?”

  “They’re only distant cousins. Mr. Heathington’s grandfather and my great-grandfather were brothers. That’s definitely not a close connection.”

  “You’re among friends now, Cassie sweetheart. You know how I feel about you. I want you for my wife, but so does that damn Tucker.”

  He leaned over her and pressed his lips gently to hers. “I’m hoping you marry me, honey. You’re everything I’ve dreamed for in my life.” His next kiss was more fervent, his tongue probing into her mouth.

  Heat shot to her abdomen and her arms curled around him as if by their own volition. She met his thrusting tongue with hers. Her mind told her to pull away from him but she had no will to follow through.

  Before she realized he’d done so, the tablecloth was untied and he flung it aside. He kissed his way down her throat and shoulders. When he reached her peaked nipples, he laved them through her thin chemise.

  “Sam… Sam….” Her fingers fisted in his hair, urging him to continue.

  He raised his head to gaze into her eyes. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to control myself any longer. I want you desperately, but not if you’re still wavering on who to wed.”

  She pulled away and sat up. “Oh, my stars, what are we thinking? W-We have to get dressed and go back to town. I don’t hear thunder now.” For some undecipherable reason, she wanted to cry, to cling to him and ask him to hold her forever. “Damn.”

  He leaned back and laughed. “My feelings exactly.”

  She knew she must be blushing. “I apologize. You know I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” She grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head, heedless of him watching.

  He stood and retrieved his shirt. “Not quite dry. Your clothes the same?” He slid his arms into the sleeves and fastened the buttons.

  She tugged the bodice in place. “Damp still, but at least not dripping wet as when we arrived.”

  “You’ll need to keep the blankets around you in the buggy. The wind will chill you unless the sun comes out.”

  She folded the blanket she’d used. “I’ll tidy up in here while you hitch the horses.”

  When he left, she sank onto the nearest chair. How brainless was she? She hadn’t wanted him to stop holding her, kissing her, fondling her.

  Saturday. She’d promised to let him know her decision on Saturday. Life with him in a cabin like this or a life of luxury with Bart? Right now Sam was the one she wanted but she had to be certain.

  With a heavy sigh, she rose and cleaned the plates as best she could with no water. They should have set the bucket outside when they arrived. The wind probably would have sent it to the next county.

  She was trying to roll up the mattress when Sam returned with an armload of firewood.

  “I’ll handle that.” He laid his load on the hearth and took over rolling the mattress. Quickly, he finished and returned it to the bunk where he’d found it. “Still drizzling, but no lightning.”

  After he checked the fires, he picked up the picnic basket. “Put the blanket around you when we leave.”

  She pulled the blanket around her like a cloak. “I couldn’t really clean the plates without water. I hope you’ll apologize to Martha when you return the basket.”

  He picked up the basket and guided her with his free hand. “I’ll take it to my room at the hotel and clean them before I return the basket. Might eat the leftovers.”

  “There’s still chicken but we pretty well demolished the rest. I’m afraid my appetite wasn’t lady like.” She hurried through the light rain to the buggy.

  As he helped her onto the seat, he grinned at her with mischief dancing in his gorgeous brown eyes. “My appetite was strong today, and not just for food.”

  Remembering her response to his ardor sent heat warming her face in a blush. He laughed. She wished she were sophisticated enough that she didn’t embarrass so easily. He was still chuckling as he hurried around the other side and climbed in.

  Chapter Eight

  Cassandra and Sam arrived half an hour before supper. Lydia met them at the door and asked them to her office. The interview with Lydia was short, but Cassandra caught the glances of the other girls as she rushed through the parlor.

  She hurried to her room where she quickly stripped and washed her face and hands. The ride had chilled her and she needed dry clothing to get warm. While she was fastening her petticoat, Angeline came into the room.

  “I would have been more concerned if you hadn’t been with Mr. Drummond. I thought he would take good care of you. Still, the others wondered why you were gone so long and if your buggy became stuck in the mud.”

  She chose a dress of finely woven gray wool, hoping the type fabric would cease her shivering. “We were fine until just before we reached that cabin, then a huge downpour drenched us. There was so much lightning Sam was afraid we’d be struck. He said anything standing on the plains attracts the bolts.”

  Angeline tilted her head. “So you were together, just the two of you, in the cabin all that time?”

  She stared at her friend. “Just as we would have been together any other place, except we were protected from the elements.”

  Angeline touched her shoulder. “I wasn’t inferring anything inappropriate took place, just reminding you that gossip spreads quickly. You’d better be prepared to squelch talk at supper. Curiosity unquenched invites rumor.”

  Cassandra sat on the bed to pull on her stockings. “I know, Angeline. The problem is that, well, we weren’t exactly proper. I don’t mean anything salacious happened.”

  “What did happen?”

  “We were soaked and cold. While he was tending the horses, I started a fire in the fireplace and in an old stove there. I removed my dress and wrapped up in a blanket. He turned his back, of course. Then he removed his shirt.”

  Angeline gasped. “You mustn’t tell that part at supper.”

  “I won’t, but I want to be honest with you. There were rolled up ticking mattresses on the four bunks. He placed one in front of the fireplace and that’s where we had our picnic. Since I had trouble eating and holding the blanket in a way that wasn’t revealing, he tied the tablecloth around my neck and kept me appearing respectable.” She didn’t mention that he also removed the tablecloth and flung it aside so he could…

  “Cassandra? You look as if you’re in another world. What’s really going on?”

  She started and shook her head. “If I hadn’t promised to act as hostess for Bart on Friday, I would have told Sam I’d marry him. As things stand, I promised to give him my answer on Saturday.”

  Angeline hugged her. “I’m so relieved. Bart is wrong for you. Think, Cassandra—if things he says and does irritate you now, imagine how much more they’d annoy you as time goes by. Sam looks at you as if you’re his heart’s desire.”

  She’d pulled her hair into a bun while they talked. After one more glance
in the mirror, she linked arms with her roommate. “Shall we go down so I can twist events into something respectable and believable?”

  “I look forward to watching and listening. I’ve been so gullible where men are concerned. Perhaps I’ll learn a thing or two.”

  ***

  After delivering Cassie to Lydia’s and explaining why they were so late, he left. He couldn’t help feeling he was deserting Cassie to suffer the suspicions of her hostess and friends. At the hotel, he grabbed his key from Lemuel and hurried to his room to change.

  When he washed and dressed, he opened the picnic remains to see what he could salvage for his supper. He was munching a chicken leg when a rap on the door interrupted. He dropped his snack and wiped his hands on a towel before he opened the door.

  Lemuel handed him a telegram. “Forgot to give you this when you came in. Delivered about an hour ago.”

  “Thanks.” He handed the hotel owner a tip.

  Lemuel stood expectantly, as if he thought Sam would open the missive and share the contents.

  “Well, I’ll get on with my supper. Thanks for bringing this up, Lemuel.” He closed the door.

  Wondering who would wire him, he tore open the envelope. Glancing at the end, he saw Jeff Heathington’s name. He read the paper with growing disbelief. Plopping onto a chair, he read the telegram again.

  Beware. Stop. Cassandra not guest. Stop. She was maid. Stop. Punched me in nose for no reason. Stop. Fired her. Stop. Brother also left. Stop. Jeff.

  How could this be true? She was a servant and not kin? Why had she lied to him? Was she who he thought she was or just another woman making a fool of him?

  He recalled when she arrived, she’d picked up two valises to carry to Lydia’s. He should have known doing so would never have occurred to a lady. Her clothes were exquisite, and he wondered where she’d acquired them.

  Had he been so wrong about her? She was different from Edith. He’d believed Cassie was the woman he’d been waiting to have come into his life.