Only the Heart Knows (The Brides Series)

by Lena Goldfinch

  “We’d better.” Lordy, she’d better get a hold of her breathing, Mandy thought. She’d need all the air she could get to run.

  “Ready?” she asked, grabbing a fistful of Adam’s suit coat for good measure.

  He seemed to know instinctively when she was going to move. His right leg swung forward just as her left leg did. They stumbled a little on the next stride, laughing, and then caught on again, with Adam calling out a brisk, “One two, one two.”

  They had it. And this was just their practice.

  There was a bustle of movement as Ezra Campbell took his place at the finish line. He held up a white strip of cloth tied to a twig and shouted, “Line up!”

  Mandy and Adam scooted to their place on the starting line. To their immediate right were Emma and Juliana, tied together and wobbling like they might fall down even before the race began. On Adam’s other side were Mama and Lacy, their heads together, whispering some sort of strategy perhaps.

  To the far left of the string of contestants were Russell Girard and his brother, and beside them Darby and Luke. The pair of Adam’s ranch hands were beside Mandy’s sisters, spending a good amount of time giving the girls advice. Good, perhaps those two would be distracted. There were several other pairs of young men clustered near Emma and Juliana as well, and Mandy couldn’t help feeling grateful that her sisters were providing such a wonderful distraction. She sent them an encouraging nod.

  “On your marks! Get set! Go!” Ezra whipped the flag in an arc, sending them all forward.

  Mandy grabbed tighter to Adam’s coat as they swung forward into a few gamboling steps.

  She heard him counting out their steady, “One-two, one-two,” even as a humming sound like a beehive filled her ears. Her blood pumping. It was always like this, this all-consuming drive to throw everything she had into a race.

  She noted as Lacy and her mother fell behind, walking, slow but steady. The two of them quickly fell behind, out of view. Emma and Juliana fell, literally, in a tangle, taking out several pairs of likely young competitors who stopped to help them up.

  The Girards had taken the lead. Darby and Luke were keeping beside Mandy and Adam. They were also picking up speed in an attempt to catch the Girards. But the brothers were too good, too fast. It was like they’d been running side by side, tied at the ankle since the day they were born. Some sort of unfair advantage, surely, being brothers, so equally matched in size and frame.

  “One-two-one-two-one-two!” Adam’s pacing picked up, and they fell into a faster rhythm, almost a full-out run. They quickly outpaced Darby and Luke, who’d started to struggle, perhaps due to their lack of practice. Mandy left them behind without another thought.

  All her attention was ahead of her, on Russell Girard’s back. If only he’d take one little misstep, just one.

  And then he did.

  He hit a rut and the brothers lost some speed.

  Adam pressed them forward, taking advantage, and they passed them. Right across the finish line.

  Ezra Campbell let out a whoop, just as Mandy collapsed to the ground with Adam, bumping elbows and long limbs in a most familiar manner, laughing helplessly. They’d won. They’d won against Russell and his brother. And they’d won against Darby as well. They’d won together.

  Mandy couldn’t stop beaming even as Adam freed their ankles and helped her to her feet.

  Well done, Banks!

  She held the words back just in time. He wasn’t supposed to be “Banks” to her, he was Adam Booker. Mr. Booker to her. And calling him Banks would have exposed her secret.

  “Well run, Mr. Booker. Well run,” she said, a trifle winded from their dash across the finish line.

  “Well run to you too, Miss MacKenna. Well run.” Adam gave her the most appealing grin, showing off that dimple in his cheek.

  “Just like that!” Ezra Campbell’s son appeared before them with a box camera on stilts which he set before them. “Hold still...” In moments, he’d taken a photograph and ambled away with the camera. Mandy could only suppose he hoped to sell the image to Gus to place in the newspaper.

  A photograph of her and Adam Booker—her Banks—smiling together, having just won the three-legged race. And just like that, she wanted it. She didn’t want it in the newspaper, for everyone to see. She wanted it just to herself. Framed. But how...?

  “Mandy!” Emma came up beside them, gasping for breath, laughing. “You two flew! It’s like you’ve always done this together.” She shook her head in amazement. Her gaze turned to Adam, and something like admiration and stunned recognition dawned there. Juliana drew close too, her eyes glowing. She held the strip of white cloth from their race pressed to her side. She appeared incapable of speech.

  Mandy wasn’t sure what her sisters’ reaction meant other than what Emma had said was true. They had flown together. Like they’d always been tied together at the ankle. Like they belonged together.

  Heat flooded her face as Adam’s eyes rested on her.

  “Your sister is quite the runner,” he replied to Emma’s comment. Mandy wasn’t entirely positive, but she could have sworn there was a flicker of genuine admiration in his eyes. He truly wasn’t put off by her sporting behavior. Was he? It didn’t seem as if he was.

  His hand against her back was as warm as fire. He hadn’t let her go yet from helping her up. He’d kept it there, as casually as a longtime friend might. Or a would-be suitor.

  Could he feel how fast her heart was beating? Could he feel each uneven breath?

  Perhaps he could guess how she felt about him. He must know how she felt. That she admired him.

  Mandy didn’t dare move for fear he’d drop his arm to his side.

  She saw her mother with Lacy. The two had just finished, evidently having walked the entire race. Mama’s expression appeared lighter, not so distressed or lost, even though Papa still hadn’t gone over to her. He still stood with his cronies.

  Mandy stifled a sigh.

  Papa raised his hat to her to salute her win, but he didn’t look very pleased at how close Adam was standing to her. And Mama...she was staring at Mandy and Adam as well, her gaze speculative, as if she were weighing him as a prospect. Mandy couldn’t tell if her mother approved or not. She simply knew her mother was watching closely and making note of their interactions.

  Just as Emma and Juliana wandered off, Darby jogged over.

  “Well, you two sure passed us up.” Darby grinned. “The Girards too. I never would’ve guessed it, Booker, but the pair of you beat us all.”

  Her cousin proceeded to exchange a few words back and forth with Adam in a very companionable way.

  They’d turned to face the starting line by this time, and Mandy saw the crushed grass from the race and all the church folks gathered along the edges, their cheers and laughter already fading. The race was over, time to move on to the next thing.

  A movement to her right caught Mandy’s eye and there was Russell Girard with his brother. Russell shook his head at her. His ever-so-slight glower promised something like retribution. Mandy resisted the urge to compress her lips and worry. This moment was for savoring their win—hers and Adam’s—for enjoying his company and her sisters’ praise.

  Instead she discovered Adam looking from her to Russell with a rather odd expression. As if he’d tasted something gone bad. And he stepped back, dropping his hand to his side.

  Adam wasn’t certain what to make of the lingering glance he’d caught between Mandy and Russell Girard. But some undercurrent had passed between them, which meant Russell was interested in Mandy MacKenna.

  There appeared to be a history between them.

  More than having been childhood friends.

  Adam thought back to how Darby had served as a go-between earlier, presenting Russell to Mandy before the dance. It had seemed odd to Adam at the time that Russell would require Darby’s assistance to ask her for a dance. But what did Adam know? He wasn’t from Cross Creek. He didn’t know their particular history. P
erhaps he’d inadvertently stepped on Russell Girard’s toes.

  Perhaps there was something between him and Mandy.

  The two rarely seemed to speak these days, not more than a passing hello, but Adam remembered several times catching them looking at each other in church. Tension arcing between them. He’d thought at first that there’d been some disagreement in their past.

  But what if there’d been a romance between them? Girard was young and accomplished, and it was entirely possible that Mandy had already given him a second look. Found him worthy. She might even still have feelings for the man.

  Was it only a matter of time before they reconciled? And Girard asked Mandy to marry him?

  The thought sat sour in Adam’s mind.

  He wished then that his own brother was here to discuss the matter with. Someone to share some insight with him.

  Darby took that precise moment to wave Russell over. Russell paused a hair, then made his way across the church lawn. Adam eye-balled his progress with narrowed eyes, recognizing that he was assessing him as a possible rival.

  He walked with the loose-limbed swagger of a man born to the saddle. He had a rancher’s build. Strong. Broad shouldered. A good-looking enough face. Pale skin. Freckles that merged into a seamless pattern. A smooth jawline that looked like he’d never have much luck growing a beard. Then, as Russell lifted his hat to rake back his sweat-dampened bangs, it struck Adam that he and Mandy both had hair that tended toward red.

  If the two were to have children, they’d probably all be ginger-topped.

  Adorable daughters. Handsome sons.

  Another sour thought.

  The more Adam thought about it, the more it seemed like Russell was a prime match for a fine young woman like Amanda MacKenna. They’d grown up together. He’d been born to ranching. Knew what he was doing. And his place abutted the MacKenna place, a fact Adam had noted early on. They likely shared water rights. What better way to ensure the prosperity of adjoining properties than a marriage to unify the two families?

  Russell was eying him too. And, from the other man’s pointed glare, the dislike Adam felt toward him was mutual. But then Russell never had liked Adam, not from the moment he’d arrived in Cross Creek. He’d always looked Adam over with an air of suspicion. As if Adam was an outsider bent on claiming his land.

  “That was quite a race.” Darby greeted Russell with a hearty thump on the back.

  “You could say that,” Russell replied affably enough, returning the gesture with a thumping back slap of his own. The two were obviously good friends. “We would’ve had it though if it hadn’t been for Mandy here.”

  Mandy simply pursed her lips at this. She cast an irritated glance at her cousin, one charged with meaning and promise. As if she planned to give him a good talking-to later. Interesting.

  “And Mr. Booker.” Russell nodded to Adam, his tone cooling noticeably. He stood tall, his legs braced for action, as if he might be called to rope a calf at any moment.

  “Mr. Girard.” Adam offered his hand and Russell’s hand enveloped his in a crushing grip. A working man’s grip. Strong as iron and roughened with calluses.

  A warning, it seemed.

  Adam held tight, refusing to loosen his own firm grip though his bones protested.

  Russell finally broke off, and the blood came rushing back into Adam’s hand.

  “One of my men saw your horse in the trees the other day. Out by the lake.” Russell rested a measuring gaze on Adam.

  “That’s right. I stopped to cool off at the swim hole.”

  “Up at Revival Pool?” Mandy joined in, her expression determined, as if she just might want to edge Russell out of the conversation, which was encouraging. “Where they had the revivals years ago?”

  “That’s the place. I actually had a run-in with a native there,” Adam said, going completely still inside at the memory. It had been such a life-changing experience, one he thought of often in quiet moments.

  If not for that moment, he might not have asked Mandy to dance today.

  And he would have missed out on so much.

  “You did?” Mandy shared a quick glance with Darby. Both cousins looked surprised, as did Russell. Adam wished the other two men would wander off, preferably out of earshot, so he could have Mandy all to himself.

  “There was a native there?” Her eyes locked with Adam’s then, her expression adorably concerned.

  And just like that, there was no one else. Just the two of them standing there. Everyone else fading to no more than a smear off to Adam’s left.

  “There was,” he said. “I don’t know how long I’d been there, enjoying the shade and the water, but something came over me—almost like a chill—and that’s when I saw him.” He warmed to his story, noticing the spark of interest in her eyes. “He was paddling a canoe up on the lake. Now that I think about it, it had to have been quite a distance between us, but in the moment I felt I could see right into his eyes.”

  He left out how he’d stood motionless in the water, waiting for the boy to make any move toward him, waiting for an arrow or a tomahawk to come flying at him from the cover of the trees.

  “I thought it was safe there,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t say it’s not safe...” Adam said.

  “But he could have killed you,” she insisted. “If he’d wanted. He could have had a bow and arrow. An arrow can go a long distance in the hands of an accomplished bowman.”

  “I didn’t see a weapon on him, just a paddle,” Adam said. “But I won’t lie, there was a moment there when I thought my life might be in danger.” He paused, hoping he could be forgiven for allowing the suspense to draw out just a little.

  Mandy placed a hand on his forearm as if she actually shared his alarm. Her touch was like an ember burning straight through his sleeve.

  “But he was just a boy,” he said, quick to reassure her. “About seventeen, maybe. Probably out scouting for a good fishing hole. Probably as surprised to see me as I was to see him.”

  “You had your gun, I hope,” Russell spoke up, bursting the nice bubble that had formed around Adam and Mandy. Russell glanced down at her hand on Adam’s forearm, his expression curiously amused. She immediately drew back.

  “I wasn’t carrying one, no,” Adam said, missing Mandy’s closeness immediately.

  “I wouldn’t make that mistake twice,” Russell said dryly.

  Mistake.

  Adam stiffened and glanced at Mandy to see what she made of his statement. She was frowning as if the comment hadn’t pleased her either. Or perhaps she was disappointed in Adam for not properly arming himself...

  Did she admire a man who waved a gun around to protect himself?

  Did she think less of him because he hadn’t?

  Or because he was a city man?

  A banker.

  “I didn’t see the need to shoot anyone, especially not an unarmed boy.” Adam tried to answer Russell politely, but it irritated him, being chastised in front of Mandy like that. His hand formed a fist at his side.

  “So, you’re a pacifist, is that right?” A slight sneer played at the corner of Russell’s mouth.

  It looked like Darby wanted to say something too, but was holding his peace, waiting to see what Adam had to say.

  Adam hesitated, tempted to share his experience with target shooting. How he’d won several marksmanship competitions in his youth. But it hardly seemed relevant. He wasn’t a hunter. He wasn’t a soldier. And besides, mentioning it now would only seem self-serving.

  “A pacifist. I suppose some might call me that,” Adam said, straightening. “My opinions haven’t always been popular, not even back in Denver. I spoke out against the Indian wars. It seems to me a lot of the conflict could have been avoided if men hadn’t jumped to fight—”

  “Jumped to fight? Some men don’t have the luxury of avoiding conflict. Of choosing to be a pacifist,” Russell interrupted in his same dry-as-dust tone. He glanced from Mandy to Darby, perhaps
gauging their support. “They have to fight to survive.”

  “True,” Adam said, then paused as a thought struck him. “But the same could be said of the native peoples.”

  He heard Mandy’s indrawn breath and wondered what she was thinking.

  Russell Girard merely inclined his head, perhaps in grudging agreement.

  “You’re right, Mr. Booker,” Mandy said slowly. Her gaze on him was so steady. As if he’d won her approval, if that was the right word. It was heady. Having all Mandy’s approval. Her expression so intelligent and thoughtful. It could make a man think all sorts of foolish thoughts about himself, like how fascinating he must be. “That’s true. And when you think...they were here first.”

  “Mandy...” Darby said warningly. It was then Adam realized Mandy’s father had joined their small gathering. How long had he been there? And why was Darby warning his cousin? The most likely explanation was that Mandy’s father wouldn’t be pleased about her agreement with Adam on this matter.

  “It’s true though. Isn’t it?” Mandy asked. She’d caught sight of her father too and yet stood her ground. An undercurrent of tension passed between them, father to daughter. Daughter to father. She faced him in what seemed to Adam the bravest fashion.

  Because she knows he loves her.

  Adam shifted uncomfortably, regretting that he was the cause of the momentary tension between them. He’d always been impressed by how close Mandy’s relationship with her father seemed. They had a very obvious affection for one another. She respected him. She should respect him. He was a good man. He worked hard. He’d built up an empire here in Cross Creek.

  To Adam’s relief, Darby and Russell’s attention was called away when Russell’s brother drifted over and drew them into conversation.

  He was left standing with Mandy and her father.

  “I’m of that opinion, Miss MacKenna,” Adam answered her. He cast about for another topic. Anything to redirect the conversation.

  “Call me Mandy,” she insisted warmly.

  Adam wanted to smile at her in appreciation and accept her surprising offer immediately, but he hesitated, intensely aware of her father’s presence. He glanced at the older man and saw him incline his head. Evidently, he was equally surprised by his daughter’s offer.