The Independent Bride

by Leigh Greenwood

  “They’d probably knock Abby down in their struggles to see who got to walk next to her,” Bryce said. “She’ll be safer with me.”

  Abby wasn’t sure. Six enlisted men posed no danger to her. One colonel did. An involuntary shiver ran through Abby when the night air hit her.

  “Cold?” Bryce asked.

  “A little.” The room had become hot from the proximity of so many bodies and the lamps it took to light the room.

  “Let me put my overcoat around you.”

  “Won’t you be cold?”

  “The army doesn’t know how to make uniforms out of anything except wool. If I wore this over my uniform, I’d perspire.”

  The overcoat was so heavy, Abby almost asked him to take it back. However, the night air had become quite cool and she appreciated the warmth.

  Once her eyes became accustomed to the night, she could see everything with remarkable clarity. The moonlight had tinted the fort, surrounding plains, and mountains silver.

  “Are you and your sister comfortable sleeping at the trading post?” Bryce asked.

  “Why shouldn’t we be?”

  “Having that much liquor in one place tempts people to break in. Your father slept with a shotgun at his bedside.”

  “I have my rifle.”

  “You shouldn’t have to do that. I’d feel better if you were still using my spare bedroom.”

  “We trespassed on your hospitality long enough.”

  “I didn’t think of it as trespassing. It was a pleasure for Pamela and me to have you.”

  Abby laughed. “Is Pamela still complaining about Zeb’s cooking?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. We’d have enjoyed having you stay with us even if you didn’t cook. Pamela adores you. And I think you’re rather special, too.”

  “I enjoyed it, too,” Abby said, determined not to let him know how much, “but the trading post is our home. There’s no reason for us to stay anywhere else.”

  “Not even for your safety?”

  “You’ve put a guard on us at night. How much safer can we be?”

  “You’d be safer sleeping in my spare bedroom.”

  Why did he keep doing this? If he just wanted someone to eat dinner with, he could come right out and ask. Moriah would probably fuss, but Abby would enjoy eating with him and Pamela a couple of times a week. She stopped in the middle of the parade ground and turned to Bryce.

  “Staying in your house would only cause gossip.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t pretend to be dense. You’re single. So am I. Your attention and help have caused people to wonder about our relationship. If I were to stay in your house— especially since there’s no need now—people would be certain something was going on.”

  “Not with Moriah there, too.”

  “Even with Moriah. They’d suppose she was encouraging me to try to entrap the most eligible man at the fort.”

  “But everyone knows I’m not looking for a wife.”

  “They might think I’d settle for a more informal relationship. A man’s reputation can survive something like that. A woman’s can’t” She turned back toward the trading post.

  “If I find anyone questioning your reputation, even in a whisper, I’ll transfer him to the worst fort in the West.”

  Abby was touched that Bryce was so concerned about her reputation, but he had to know punishing people would only make things worse.

  “Thank you,” she said, “but I’m happier where I am.”

  “I’m not.”

  She turned to him again. “Why not? Everyone knows you intend to choose a wife from your own social circle.”

  “Just because a woman will make a perfect wife doesn’t mean she’s the woman you love.”

  Abby knew Bryce wasn’t in love with her—she didn’t want him to be—but her pulse quickened. He wouldn’t have mentioned love if his feelings for her weren’t very strong. She wanted him to like her—she really wanted more than liking—but she didn’t know what else she wanted. And even if she did, she didn’t know if she should reach for it. It could be dangerous to both their plans for the future.

  “Don’t you want to love your wife?”

  “It’s more important that a couple have the same goals, the same willingness to sacrifice to achieve them.”

  “I know love can blind you to faults and shortcomings, make you see what you want to see rather than what’s really there, but I couldn’t marry a man I didn’t love. I’d rather remain alone. You’re not in love with me.

  “I didn’t say I was, but just because you don’t fall in love doesn’t mean you can’t hold someone in deep affection.”

  Abby turned toward the trading post. “Deep affection is for friends of the same sex. Between a man and a woman it can only cause pain.”

  “Not if both hold each other in deep affection,” Bryce said.

  “What are you asking of me?”

  “I find you very attractive and I like you very much. I want to spend more time with you, time when you’re not in the store and I’m not dealing with my responsibilities. I want to get to know you better. I have a very difficult time standing here talking to you without touching you. Will you let me see you more?”

  “Yes,” Abby said, casting caution to the winds.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t neglect my work. That would be unfair to Moriah.”

  “I can delegate someone to help her.”

  “It would be better if I could get one of the wives to help her.”

  “You won’t take a long time to do it, will you?”

  “No.”

  “Will you let me know as soon as you’re free?”

  “Yes.”

  Abby didn’t understand why she was getting more depressed with every word. She was a grown woman with the natural needs and desires of a grown woman. She was an independent businesswoman, so she had no one to answer to, no one to set up rules for her to follow. There was no reason to be upset, angry, or hurt.

  So why did she want to cry?

  “I’m glad I was able to get back for the party tonight,” Bryce said. “I would have hated to miss dancing with you.”

  “I don’t dance that well.”

  “It’s not the dance. It’s the dancer.”

  They had reached the porch of the trading post. Abby was about to pull the rope that was attached to a bell in their living quarters so Moriah would unbar the door. Her sister didn’t like being in the post alone with the front door open.

  Bryce reached for Abby’s hand. “Don’t go in just yet. You don’t have to worry about gossip. No one can see us.”

  Abby wasn’t sure about that, but she didn’t want the evening to end just yet. She liked being with Bryce. Over the last several days she’d come to realize that only work kept him from being constantly in her thoughts. Bryce slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

  “Have I told you I think you’re beautiful?”

  “Yes, but I never told you I think you’re handsome.”

  “Do you?”

  “You know you are. Every woman at the fort thinks so.

  “I’m not concerned about every woman, just you.”

  He pulled her so close, their lips were only inches apart. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Her body was growing too warm for the overcoat. When he slipped his other arm around her waist, the overcoat slid off her shoulders. It fell to the ground almost unnoticed as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss.

  Abby thought she had gotten used to her response to Bryce’s touch, but now it seemed to be stronger than ever. Her body strained to meet him, to press itself against him, to draw warmth and strength from him. She seemed to want to burrow inside of him until she became part of him. Her arms wound around Bryce’s neck, pulled him down closer to her, binding him to her with all her strength. She rose on her tiptoes to be closer still, to return his kiss with equal fervor.

  Bryce’s
first kiss had been a shock and a revelation, one she’d since dreamed about many times. She’d never believed such an expression between two people could be proper, but now she didn’t care. Nothing in her life had had the power to make her feel so alive, so full of energy, so wanted.

  Though she understood in her mind why her father had never wanted his daughters to join him, she’d never been able to overcome the feeling that she was somehow inadequate, that she didn’t measure up, that she was unwanted. Albert hadn’t been able to banish that fear. But being in Bryce’s strong embrace, being kissed with nearly savage energy, made her feel she was so important this man would move heaven and earth for her.

  She needed to feel wanted.

  Bryce deepened their kiss, drawing her to him as if she belonged to him. His tongue invaded her mourn like a swaggering conqueror, vanquishing all before him as though it was his divine right. She fought to hold her own against him, yet didn’t mind being overpowered, overwhelmed, overcome. The magnitude of her defeat was at the same time a measure of the depth of his desire for her. Her weakness was at the same time her strength. The joy of her surrender was immense.

  Bryce broke their kiss with such suddenness she felt all her support had been withdrawn at once, that she was plummeting through space with nothing to break her fall. She felt weak, limp in his embrace.

  She wondered why neither Albert nor any of the other men she’d known had attempted to kiss her as Bryce had. She wondered why just being with Bryce had affected her more powerfully than all the times she’d spent in the company of men who said they liked her.

  She wondered why Bryce could make her question her decision never to be married, never to allow herself to fall in love. She wondered why his kisses made her realize she had never loved Albert even though she’d thought she wanted to marry him. Bryce made her question everything about her relationships with men, past and present.

  But all the questions were pointless; Bryce would be leaving soon.

  “It’s no wonder the men propose to you over and over again,” Bryce said, sounding breathless. “You’re enough to make a man forget his responsibilities.”

  Maybe some men, but not Bryce. Whatever his feelings might be, he didn’t let them rule his head. He never lost sight of his ultimate goal.

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Abby said. “Any woman would like to feel she had that kind of power over her man.”

  But a woman of conscience, a woman of character, would never exercise it.

  “Sometimes I get the feeling you’re more dangerous to me than any outlaw or rogue Indian. You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.” He leaned back so he could look into her eyes. “Sometimes I feel as if you must be a witch.”

  “No supernatural powers here,” Abby said, thinking that the men in her life had turned their backs on her without difficulty. “You’re just vulnerable because you’re a single man, I’m a single woman, and we’re momentarily trapped at this fort with no commitments to anyone else. Once you’re back in the East you’ll scratch your head trying to remember what it was you found so interesting about me.”

  “I don’t have to do that. I already know.”

  Abby didn’t want to know. This was a casual relationship, one that would end when Bryce left the fort. If it was to leave no scars, they would need to keep their importance to each other on a physical level. Verbalizing their feelings would only cause pain.

  “Then let it be your secret,” Abby said. “I’m told men like to keep their women guessing.”

  “It’s the other way around. Besides, it’s no secret. Any man who meets you would feel the same.”

  “You can tell me about my eyes, my skin, my teeth.” These were all superficial things that wouldn’t touch her heart.

  “I’d rather talk about your soul, your spirit, your strength of character.”

  “Don’t!”

  Bryce seemed surprised by her reaction. “I thought women liked to be loved for more than their physical beauty.”

  “We’re not talking about love. Besides, every woman likes to be told she’s beautiful.”

  “That’s not what draws a man to a woman for more than a short time. Hair turns gray, skin dries and shrivels, teeth may decay, and eyes can go blind. But mat’s all on the surface. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

  “It’s time for me to go in. Moriah will be worried. And you have to get up early for the first drill.”

  “I’ve directed drill more than once without sleep.”

  “Bryce, you’re going to choose a wife for practical purposes. There’s no point in thinking about my inner qualities.”

  “But that’s what makes you so special. A man could very easily love you forever.”

  Something inside Abby snapped and a sob tore loose from her throat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I can’t do this,” she cried. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t do what?” Bryce asked, apparently confused and worried by her sudden outburst.

  But Abby couldn’t tell him. How did you tell a man you couldn’t pursue a casual relationship because you’d suddenly discovered you were in danger of falling in love with him? She might have been able to if he hadn’t started talking about inner qualities that could make a man love her forever. Didn’t he know that every woman longed to believe a man loved her for her inner beauty, that age would increase and deepen rather than wear down the strength and intensity of his love?

  She reached for the rope and pulled hard. She had to get away from Bryce.

  “What did I say to upset you?” Bryce asked.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired. I’ve been under a lot of strain since I got here. I guess it’s bothering me.”

  “You didn’t seem on the verge of tears just moments ago.”

  She pulled on the rope again. “It comes on without warning.” She pulled the rope again, praying Moriah would hurry.

  “I can’t leave you like this.”

  “Men get drunk when things bother them. Women cry.” She heard the bar being lifted and the key inserted in the lock. She practically fell into Moriah’s arms.

  “What’s wrong?” Moriah asked as soon as she got a look at Abby. “What did he do to you?”

  “Nothing,” Abby said, hoping to reassure her sister. “I’m just tired.”

  Moriah looked from one of them to the other, her expression far from friendly. “I appreciate your seeing my sister safely home,” she said to Bryce. “Good night.” She closed the door in his face, then led her sister inside.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said. “And don’t leave anything out.”

  Bryce remained standing on the porch, trying to figure out what had just happened.

  Sometimes Abby seemed like two people. One was a hardheaded businesswoman determined to succeed. She didn’t mind asking for help or going against convention. She was strong, resourceful, and knew exactly what she wanted. She made decisions based on practical reasons, not emotional ones. She seemed determined to live her life without husband or family. She regarded the soldiers’ repeated proposals with humor, understood the difficult life they led, and didn’t blame them for wanting to make it easier.

  Then there was the Abby who responded eagerly to his kisses, much more eagerly than he would have expected. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d slapped him the first time he kissed her, even refused to speak to him afterward. That same Abby had reappeared tonight to enjoy being held in his arms, to enjoy his compliments. The way she’d responded to his kiss had led him to believe she was opening the door to a closer relationship.

  Then she’d slammed it abruptly, leaving him with no clue as to what had caused the sudden change. He was equally puzzled by her insistence that he confine his compliments to her physical appearance. He knew women wanted to be thought beautiful, but Abby wasn’t a person who valued the external over the internal. She discounted her physical appearance. Though she dressed well, she never w
ore anything out of the ordinary.

  None of this made sense. Maybe he’d ask Dorrie. She could be flighty, but she was bound to know more about this sort of thing than he did. Besides, he had to figure out what the changes in his own feelings for Abby signified.

  He had grown up in a society where marriages were contracted for social and financial reasons far more often than for love. Some people, his mother being one of them, considered love dangerous to the stability of a marriage. They said love was irrational, temporary, and the cause of much self-destructive behavior in men and women. They believed respect, common goals, and similar backgrounds formed the basis for the most successful marriages. Bryce had married for love, and it had been a disaster. He had every intention of choosing his next bride for practical reasons. He hadn’t thought his attraction to Abby threatened that intention until tonight.

  He’d recognized his physical attraction to Abby from the beginning. The fact that she was the first attractive single woman to come within his orbit had made it easier to accept the unanticipated strength of his feeling for her.

  Tonight, however, he’d realized the things that appealed to him most about Abby had very little to do with the superficial. Yes, he enjoyed her cooking, but it was the impulse behind her offer to prepare his meals that was important. He was glad of her friendship with Pamela, but it was the enjoyment she got out of letting Pamela help that was important. The same was true of her insistence that the Indians get all the beef they were promised and get it on time, her continuing effort to make sure the store carried as much as possible of what the people at the fort wanted, her friendship with wives of officers as well as enlisted men. Maybe most telling was the fact that he’d forgotten he’d ever wanted her to go back to St. Louis.

  Something very profound had changed in his thinking, and he’d better figure out what and why before he did something he would regret.

  Abby didn’t know the man who walked into the store, but he wasn’t one of the soldiers. She hoped he was a rancher or homesteader. She wanted to build her clientele among the civilians in the area.