by Jillian Hart
“I know you don’t love me, but that’s part of what love is. Sacrifice for one another.” Her fingers threaded through his, the contact the most magical thing he’d ever known. “I can’t tell you what your offer means to me, so yes.”
“Yes?” Her answer surprised him. She wasn’t letting him down gently.
“I’ll marry you.” She worried her bottom lip, a sure sign she was nervous.
She wasn’t alone there. Panic kicked him in the ribs. Marriage. That was an awfully big step, but in return he wouldn’t be alone. His heart would be safe in Melody’s hands. She wouldn’t cheat on him when he was gone on a case, she wouldn’t spend his hard-earned money carelessly or be prone to fits of drama or complaining. She would be like spring coming into his life, bringing sunshine and serenity and the warmth he hungered for.
“Then it’s settled.” Imagine what his mother was going to say. And his brothers. And his friends. He grimaced.
“You don’t look very happy about it.”
“That’s because I’m imagining what everyone is going to say. I’m going to take a lot of ribbing. Everything I’ve ever said about marriage is going to come back to haunt me.”
“Rightfully so. That’s what you get for being so sour. I hope you know I won’t put up with any sourness.” She winked, playful and enchanting. “I hope you aren’t expecting a meek, submissive kind of wife.”
“No, but I am worried about your cooking.”
“You’ll have to wait and see. It will be something for you to look forward to.”
No doubt about it. He was hooked, line and sinker. Not that he was fool enough to fall in love with the woman, but he cared for her. That was as far as he intended to go.
“Miss Pennington?” A man’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Austin.” Gabe frowned at the livery stable owner staring with outright abhorrence at the sight of their linked hands. Remembering how interested the other man was in his new fiancée, Gabe managed his fiercest of scowls. “Can I help you?”
“Uh, no. I’ve been looking for Miss Pennington.” Austin’s shoulders sank. Disappointment hung on his face. “I heard you were moving to the boardinghouse.”
“You were the one looking for me?” She untwined her hand from Gabe’s. “It was you.”
“Guilty. I wanted to offer to haul your trunks.” He gulped, looking vulnerable. “I’d still like to do that for you?”
She knew he wasn’t asking about the trunks. He was asking about her and Gabe. She didn’t know what to tell him. Derrick hadn’t been the one looking for her, so that meant she didn’t need Gabe’s protection as much as she’d first thought. Why was she so disappointed? Shouldn’t she be relieved?
“That’s good of you,” Gabe boomed out. “But Melody is my responsibility now.”
“So it’s true, what I overheard?” Austin asked.
“We’re to be married.” Her fiancé hadn’t appeared to change his mind.
Austin muttered his congratulations and slunk away, and Melody remembered how Mary had written of so many bachelors in town with no one to marry. She felt sorry for him and for Gabe. He was the type of man who didn’t go back on his word. The waiter returned with their meals, so she waited until the plates were set before them and they were alone again.
“Are you sure?” she asked, hands trembling. “I understand if you want to change your mind.”
“Is there a chance that Derrick fellow will come after you?” He set his shoulders, ignoring his steak, intent only on her.
“Not a big one, or at least I hope not. But I can’t be sure. He was terribly mad at me.” She had to be truthful with Gabe. “He might not think to check the train station. He would probably be looking for me at my friends’ houses. When he can’t find me, I’m hoping he will give up.”
“But we can’t be sure, so we’ll be safe rather than sorry.” His smile was rare, warming the shadows from his eyes and every trace of stoniness from his features. “I’ll move your trunks after we eat. I’ll get you settled in before I head for home. Is that all right?”
“Yes.” How could it not be? He made her feel secure and cared for. She stuck her fork into the fluffy dumplings on the plate in front of her, delighted to discover she had an appetite after all.
“This is the last one.” Gabe shouldered the trunk into the corner, biting his lip to keep from commenting. Seven trunks. That was a lot of dresses, shoes and frippery. Fashionable dresses, shoes and frippery, he reminded himself. All it took was one look at Melody to know she was used to being pampered. She was probably used to ordering a new wardrobe with every change of season. He straightened, ignoring the pop of his spine when he straightened his back.
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” With a flip of her wrist, she removed two enormous and deadly-looking pins from her hair. Her carefully coiled locks tumbled past her shoulders and over the rise of her bosom.
Gabe gulped, forcing his attention away from her perfect curves. He was walking a dangerous line and he intended to hold his position. Desire was one thing, but he refused to let it rule him.
“Not mad,” he barked. Well, maybe a little. “It would have been easier to keep the room at the hotel.”
“But this is a wiser use of money.”
She must have no notion how captivating she was, perched on the edge of the bed with her hair caressing the curves of her face and body. Even more alluring was her common sense with his cash. He wrestled down the urge to kiss her right then and there, married or not.
“Thank you for moving my things.” She looked uncertain. “I know some of those trunks are heavy.”
“Heavy? I’ve known horses who weigh less.” He liked that his joke made her laugh, a silvery lilting sound that stirred him. “You are aware that I’m a lawman, right? And I make a lawman’s salary?”
“That’s obvious, Gabe. I helped my father handle his finances during his illness. I know how to budget and purchase wisely.”
The problem with Melody was that she was too perfect. His perfect gal, and she didn’t seem to know it. Everything she said made him want her more. The blood pounding through him was proof of that.
“I don’t want you to be disappointed with the life I can give you.” Might as well be honest about that.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“Looking at those trunks, any smart man would.”
That made her laugh again. “I never would have left my family home if I cared about material possessions. I could have made different choices that would have assured me a very fine and comfortable life.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No. What truly matters in life are the things you cannot buy. Surely you know that, Gabe?”
“I do.” He brushed a tangle of hair out of her eyes. He couldn’t resist. Nothing was silkier than her hair or softer than her skin. In his opinion, a good woman was beyond price. Damn if he could stop the caring rushing into him until he felt filled up with it and brimming over.
Being a bachelor was hard on a man. He lived with his parents because he’d tried living alone and he’d hated it. It had been an empty life, and it was easier to pretend he’d moved back home out of convenience, since he was gone more days of the month than he was home. But in truth, living alone he’d been unable to hide from the loneliness. He, like any man, had needs both in the bedroom and out. Needs for companionship and a family. He’d always wanted a son, and now, because of Melody, he would have the chance for one.
Heat thrummed through him and he closed his mind, refusing to imagine Melody in his bed. Hard not to picture it, though, since she was sitting on the edge of the mattress with her hair down, her face tipped upward and his hand cradling her jaw. Her flawless mouth tempted him. He ached to slant his lips over hers and kiss her until she moaned his name.
Maybe marrying her wasn’t such a good idea. He swallowed hard, on the edge of control. He lowered his hand and moved away.
“Is there anything else you nee
d for tonight?” His words were brusque, his boot heels striking the floor like bullets.
“No. I’m fine, Gabe.” Her voice was thick, not at all her own. “Thank you.”
“I’ll talk to the pastor tomorrow.” He hesitated at the door, impassive, impossible to read. “See when he’s free to do the ceremony.”
“Fine.” Her lips still tingled from a kiss that had never happened. She licked her bottom lip, but the sensation remained, a brand that would not leave. A reminder that he’d had the chance to kiss her and had declined. She’d been the one wanting him, not the other way around.
“I’ll let you know what I find out.” He didn’t move, a formidable statue as dark as the gathering shadows.
“Fine,” she said again. Watching him was agony; pretending she wasn’t breaking apart inside, torture. Why wasn’t he leaving? He stood frozen in the doorway and she couldn’t tell if he was unhappy with her or himself. The milder side of Gabriel Brooks had vanished, replaced by a cold granite man who was a stranger to her.
“See you tomorrow, then.” He tipped his hat. “Good night.”
“Night,” she called, hating that her voice trembled. The door swung shut and closed with a click. She waited until the sound of his boots had faded before she buried her face in her hands.
What had she been thinking? Gabe hadn’t wanted to kiss her. How much of his attitude toward marriage was real, regardless of his reassurance? He couldn’t stomach kissing her. The thought of pressing his lips to hers had put a severe, unfeeling look on him that chilled her to the bone.
If he didn’t want her, then what kind of marriage would they have? What kind of sanctuary? Cool air crept through the floorboards as night temperatures set in. Not even the fire roaring in the small potbellied stove in the corner could drive the chill from the room or from her soul.
Cold rain chased him home. By the time he’d closed the kitchen door behind him and peeled off his wet riding coat, he was soaked through and frozen to the bone. The kitchen was dark, the counters spotless, the cook and her assistant gone for the night. The water in the kettle was still warm, so he poured a cup of tea and rummaged in the pantry until he found a molasses cookie.
Melody had said she was a good baker. At least that was something. His sweet tooth would be satisfied in this marriage, if nothing else. He wouldn’t need to worry about losing his dignity or his self-control over baked goods.
Voices carried down the hallway—his ma’s and pa’s. They were locked in a good-natured argument from the sound of things. Something about his little brother Joseph’s upcoming nuptials. Funny how he’d always figured he would be the last of the three Brooks brothers to marry, but if things went the way he planned, he’d be a husband before he went out of town at the end of the week—and before Joseph and Clara’s wedding.
Since he wanted to avoid his mother, he padded quietly down the hallway, stepping over the few boards that squeaked. The library sat in the far back of the house in a separate wing, but the vast room was not dark when he opened the door. Lamps blazed and a fire crackled on the hearth.
“Hey, big brother.” Joseph peered around the edge of a wing-back chair. “Surprised to see you here when you have much prettier company in town.”
“How do you know about me and Melody?”
“Everyone knows about you and Melody.”
Great. Gabe took his usual chair by the fire. “I suppose we were hard to miss walking through town together.”
“According to Nate—”
“Nate?” What did their other brother have to do with it? Gabe set his cup on the nearby side table and bit into his cookie so hard, pain shot through his jaw.
“He owns the feed store, remember? He’s got a clear view of the street from his front windows. As I heard it, he got an eyeful watching you parade Miss Melody past his window this morning and again arm in arm this evening. Took her to supper at the hotel, did you?”
“None of your business.” If his brothers knew, then that meant that his mother did, too. Good thing she hadn’t heard him come in.
“I thought so.” Joe looked pleased. A book sat open on his lap and he ignored it. “Couldn’t resist a damsel in distress, could you? And not to be disrespectful, but admit it, Gabe. You want her.”
“I’m taking the Fifth.” As far as he knew, a man didn’t have to incriminate himself. His family would eventually have to be told he was engaged, but he could hold off for a few days at most.
“Melody would make you a fine wife,” Joe persisted. “Nate also caught a glimpse of you hauling a trunk or two out of the hotel. After dining with the lady in question.”
“Nate ought to mind his own business.” He ground out the words, brushing cookie crumbs off his shirt. What did a man have to do to get a little privacy?
“Over supper tonight I asked Ma a few questions about Melody.” Joe turned serious. “Seems she received some sort of threat and she decided to leave Boston. To get as far away as she could to start a new life.”
“She mentioned something like that.” Curious, he took a sip of tea. He didn’t want to tip his hand and let Joe know exactly how much he wanted more information. “Melody said there had been an incident over money.”
“I don’t know what it’s about, only that Ma thought Melody had been hurt worse than she’d let on. That this fellow who wanted her pa’s estate was desperate. Owed money to gamblers or some such. Now, Ma had promised that she would be safe here. That we would all stand up and make sure of it.”
“That sounds like Ma.” He could see her glibly making those promises, sure that all would work out well. His mother was an optimist.
He was not.
“Hello, Gabe.” A woman’s dulcet voice broke the silence. It was Joe’s fiancée, Miss Clara Woodrow, standing uncertainly in the doorway, a book tucked in the crook of her arm. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later—”
“No.” Gabe launched himself out of the chair and grabbed his book on the table, eager to leave. He could see how things were. Joe had been waiting for Clara so they could spend their evening together. They ought to be alone, so he hoofed it out of the room. By the time he’d reached the hallway, he could hear his brother’s voice drop low, and Clara’s gentle answer.
They sounded like a young couple in love. It couldn’t be envy that curled around his insides, squeezing tight. Not only wasn’t he the jealous sort, but he didn’t want to be in love. He didn’t believe in it, he didn’t trust it and he wasn’t foolish enough to give it power over him.
With his book by Jules Verne in one hand and his teacup in the other, he headed upstairs. Ma’s and Pa’s contented voices murmured after him. He’d never felt more alone. It was Melody’s fault. Spending time with her had driven away his loneliness, and now that it was back, it felt larger than before. He closed the door to his room, aching for a woman he refused to need.
Chapter Six
“I remember being young and in love.”
Startled to realize she’d been staring off into space again, Melody shook her head to clear it and went back to work wiping down the table in front of the wide bay window. Thank goodness she had an understanding employer. She didn’t want to be reprimanded on her third day of work. “I promise I won’t drift off again.”
“Daydreaming is part of being in love.” Mrs. McKaslin knelt before the stove to add a scoop of coal from the hod. “Missing him when you’re apart, savoring all the things you love about him, longing for the sound of his voice and his arms to wrap around you.”
“I was only staring off down the street.” And certainly not imagining being in his arms. Heat scorched her face, and she gave the table a final swipe. The task was done, but she discovered she wasn’t moving away from the window. She’d been waiting for word from Gabe yesterday and had heard nothing. All day long she’d expected to look up from the front counter or hear a knock at her door, but nothing. He hadn’t come.
He’d changed his mind. Her hands clenched and squ
eezed soapy droplets from the cloth she held. When he’d been unable to kiss her—when the thought of kissing her had repelled him—and he’d stormed away, had he known then he couldn’t marry her? And why would he marry a woman he did not want?
Shame crawled through her. His rejection hadn’t stopped her longing for him. Her mouth still tingled with anticipation; her lips craved his kiss. Every part of her ached for something she’d never wanted before—Gabe.
She felt him before she spotted him striding purposefully down the boardwalk. Dressed in black, his collar-length hair wind tousled, he could have been a Western legend come to life. The surrounding world faded away. The other men on the boardwalk and in the street vanished until there was only him.
Behind her, the stove door clanked shut, and Mrs. McKaslin’s skirts rustled as she climbed to her feet. “There you go again. Yep, it’s definitely love.”
“No, not love.” She couldn’t let it be. Wouldn’t falling in love with Gabe be a catastrophe waiting to happen?
“I was the same way after I met my Fred. Our hearts beat in synchrony. Am I wrong, or did Gabe just come out of the jewelry store?”
“I hadn’t noticed.” All she could see was him, his Stetson shading his face, the glisten of raindrops on his coat, the proud, athletic way he moved as he crossed the street. Her eyes worshipped him, tracing every hard line and muscled curve, her pulse speeding like a runaway train.
Don’t fall any further for him, she ordered, but it was like standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff, the earth giving way beneath her shoes and gravity pulling her inexorably down.
The bell above the door chimed and Gabe walked in, bringing with him the feel of damp wind and gray skies. Melody gripped the back of a nearby chair, leaning on it for support. Had he come to break their engagement?
“Gabriel!” Mrs. McKaslin, who had grown sons Gabe’s age, welcomed him with a motherly smile. “Come sit by the stove and dry off. Spring is coming in like a lion! I’ll get you a nice hot cup of coffee.”