by Jillian Hart
“Thank you, ma’am.” Gabe swept off his hat, droplets pinging to the floor.
He’s not looking at me. She watched him turn his back to her and hang his hat on a wall peg. He took his time unbuttoning his coat. Tension hardened the angle of his jaw and the straight proud line of his back. Her fingertips wanted to smooth away the tenseness of his muscles. If only she could kiss away the tightness in his jaw. She didn’t remember crossing the bakery floor. She only knew she was beside him, staying her hand from reaching out to him. The fierce need to reassure him made her break the silence. “Gabe? Tell me what’s troubling you.”
“Nothing. I talked to the pastor. He’s free this afternoon.” He faced her as grim as a man arranging a funeral, not a wedding. “Will that be all right?”
“Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut. So he was sticking to his word. Relief warred with gratitude and a touch of fear. A mail-order marriage had sounded like a grand solution back home, but now faced with the reality of it, her hands turned cold. Nerves prickled in the pit of her stomach.
“I figure these next few hours will be the toughest part.” He looked as cold as the revolver he wore. “Once we get past the vows, it ought to get better. It’ll be like jumping off a cliff into a cold lake. After you get up the gumption to take the leap, it’s out of your hands.”
“In other words, a terrifying fall into water cold enough to kill you?” He had to be joking, right?
“It doesn’t matter if it’s the fall that gets you or the water. You’re doomed either way.” The impossibly hard line of his mouth softened in the corners.
A joke, then. “Very funny. I’m not sure I like that you look at me and see doom.”
“Sweetheart, any man who can look at you and not see doom is a darn fool.” He strolled past her and yanked out a chair at the closest table, which he held for her. “The moment I saw you, I knew you were going to be trouble. Now, sit down.”
“I’m still working. I have fifteen minutes left to go.”
“Mrs. McKaslin won’t mind. Sit down. I have something for you.” He waited for her to settle her skirts before drawing out the facing chair. He hauled it around so the small table wouldn’t be between them. This might not be a love match, but he intended to do this right. Melody was to be his wife and he intended to honor her. He reached into his pocket. “My pa bought my ma a necklace to wear at her wedding. She still has the ruby pendant, and every time she wears it my pa reminds her how lucky he was to find her.”
Melody bit her lip and bowed her head as if in pain, as if he’d said something wrong or done the wrong thing. He sighed, searched his mind, but he had no notion what it could be. Maybe it was proof this venture of theirs was a bad idea, and he hesitated.
He very nearly changed his mind, but she looked fragile and so very vulnerable. He’d never noticed before how little she was compared to him—just a bit of a thing, dear and delicate and so fine. An honest woman, one he could trust—that didn’t come along often. He liked the idea that he was the one she’d chosen to keep her safe and provide for her. So he withdrew the strand of gleaming pearls from his pocket.
“These are for you.” He’d never seen such a fine strand, each polished pearl fat and lustrous and perfectly formed. He heard Melody gasp. She straightened, her face contoured with some emotion he couldn’t guess at. She didn’t look happy.
“My grandmother’s pearls.” Tears stood in her eyes, shivering, but did not fall.
Then he understood. The tightness eased from his chest and he unclasped the gold catch with his too-big fingers. “I bought them back from the jeweler. You didn’t think I would keep your money, did you?”
“No. But I never thought—” She leaned forward so he could fasten the strand around her neck. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“No need.” Gossamer wisps falling from her hair knot caressed his cheek, catching on his jaw. The scent of roses, soap and sweet woman filled his senses as he leaned kissing close.
His knuckles grazed her neck as he fastened the necklace. An inferno roared through him. There was no single flame of desire, not this time. Need engulfed him, threatening to overtake him completely. He was a man and only so strong. He tore away from her and out of the chair, ashamed at his lack of control.
Twice he’d been close to her and twice he’d almost lost his senses. Well, he wouldn’t let down his guard. He wouldn’t lose his discipline. He’d kept a wall up between himself and everyone else, even family. What was it about Melody that could disarm him so completely?
“Gabe, this is so wonderful of you.” Gratitude deepened her baby blues, drawing him like a tornado’s updraft, and he felt on the verge of falling.
Hell. He was in serious trouble. He had to figure out a way to resist the lure of her emotions or she would suck him in, shatter his defenses and leave him vulnerable. Vulnerable was one thing that he, Gabriel Adam Brooks, did not allow.
“I talked to Candace at the dress shop. She will help you find something new for the wedding.” He might not know much about women, but he knew their affinity for new dresses. He tried to ignore the fact that she had all those trunks stuffed with fancy clothes. “Get something nice. I’ve sent a message out to my folks. I figure we should meet at the church around five o’clock when I get off work. Will that give you enough time?”
“Yes.” Her hand rested on the pearls at her collar. The tears stood in her eyes.
Those tears were killing him. At least he knew he’d done the right thing. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No.” Hard to believe it, but she smiled. “I have everything I need.”
The way she looked at him made him feel ten feet tall. He gritted his teeth, seeing the mistake he was about to make. He’d thought he was a smart enough man not to fall into love’s trap. It took all his might to keep from drawing her into his arms, all his will to keep his guard up. She felt way too close—physically and emotionally—so he pushed his chair back until the table was safely between them again.
In the church’s vestibule, Melody felt for her grandmother’s pearls clasped at her neck. Gabe had placed them there. She shivered, remembering his closeness. The graze of his knuckles against her nape, the fan of his breath against her neck made her long for him. It was hard to reconcile the man who’d given her the necklace with the one standing like a soldier in front of the altar. Rigid, shoulders back, legs braced, stony look, he could have been a warrior preparing for a battle to the death. He did not look like a man who could love.
His touch had been gentle, she remembered. She’d glimpsed true tenderness hidden beneath his well-defended exterior. The moment she’d seen the pearls in his hand she’d known she’d been wrong about the kiss. He might not love her now, but maybe love would come in time. Her heart was certainly falling and her resolve weakening. A smart woman wouldn’t confuse necessity with romance and duty with desire, but as she shrugged off her coat she wanted romance. She wanted desire. She wanted Gabe’s love.
“Every bride is lovely.” Mary Brooks raced down the aisle to wrap her in a warm hug. “But you are more stunning than any bride I’ve yet to see. Look at Gabe. He’s standing there with his mouth hanging open.”
“You’re exaggerating. He hasn’t noticed me.”
“He’s enchanted.” Mary dabbed at a tear in her eye.
“He looks like he’s about to be tortured.” Not that she blamed him. Nerves were quaking through her. She wasn’t sure her knees would hold up long enough for her to get down the aisle—and it was a very short aisle, as it was a very small church.
“All bridegrooms look that way. You should have seen Jake on our wedding day. He stood in front of the altar with his knees knocking. The reverend had to ask him if he was all right before he began.”
Across the sanctuary Gabe turned toward her, hazarding a look. No reaction rippled across him. He looked as stony as ever. Maybe he’d been watching her since she’d breezed in with the rain, keeping check on her out of the corner
of his eye. Did he have hopes for this marriage, too? Surely he did. The pearls, the consideration, the new dress he’d arranged for her all spoke more loudly than his silence.
“Come.” Mary took her hand. “Let’s get you and Gabe married. Oh, this is working out just as I’d hoped it would!”
The warm pressure of Mary’s palm against hers felt like a gift. She’d come here without family and now she had a mother’s affection. With every step she took, she no longer felt alone in the world. She had two new brothers in one row, a sister-in-law and baby niece in another. A kindly father standing beside the most handsome man she’d ever seen—her husband-to-be. Mary released her, steering her into place before a simple wooden pulpit and a kind-faced minister.
Gabe held out his hand, palm up. He wore a black suit, his Sunday finest. The reverence of his gaze told her that he did not take their marriage lightly. The instant their flesh touched, a connection telegraphed from his skin to hers, from his heart to hers and deeper, a bond she could not explain. His irises had gone black. Had he felt it, too? His gaze raked her from head to toe, slowly taking in her carefully styled hair, the ivory-colored lawn dress with simple lace edgings that she had thought was both affordable and complemented her eyes.
He leaned close, his cheek scorching hers.
“I’ve never seen any woman so beautiful.” His whisper shivered through her, as if his words were a part of her.
Love blazed within her. Not the first flickering of it or the dread of it pulling her helplessly along, but true and strong, the real thing. All it took was the appreciation for her in his eyes and she tumbled, her heart falling endlessly. “Who knew you would clean up so nice? You look handsome in a suit.”
She loved that a smile cracked the stone and let the real Gabe through. How had she gotten so lucky? She had the very best man—a man of integrity and tenderness she would honor all the days of her life. Her worries melted away as the minister broke the silence.
“Are we ready to begin?” he asked, opening the pages of his Bible.
“Yes,” she breathed and bit her bottom lip, waiting for her groom’s answer.
“Guess so,” he bit out too gruffly, and it echoed through the church like the rain beating on the roof above. He shifted uncomfortably and ran a finger beneath his buttoned-up collar.
“Dearly beloved…” the minister began, and it was as if everyone in the church took a breath at once, perhaps amazed that this was really going to happen. Gabe could feel the shock in the air, not that he could blame his family. He’d always been vocal about his opinion of marriage.
But it hadn’t turned out badly for his folks or for his brother Nate. A man just had to find the right woman, one who was compatible. In his case, he’d found Melody. Pride filled him simply from looking at her. She was a vision in that dress, as lustrous as the pearls at her throat, and she would be his. Only his. If emotion lumped in his throat, then he denied it. He wasn’t a weak man given to sappiness and softer feelings, but he supposed it wasn’t a weakness to admire Melody for what she was—genuine, captivating and true.
“We are gathered here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the minister continued.
Nerves threatened, but he drew himself taller, battling them down. Melody’s hand in his began to quake, and tenderness burst within him, spreading outward until he was engulfed with it, until all he could feel was the sweet bliss of his caring for her. Surely it was not weak to care about one’s bride—caring wasn’t love, it wasn’t weakness, it wouldn’t be a threat to the walls around his heart. He smiled, so she would know that he was with her. From this moment on, however difficult or uncertain life became, she wouldn’t face it alone. She had him.
“Gabriel Adam Brooks.” The pastor’s voice boomed through the sanctuary. “Do you take Melody Joy Pennington to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Emotions, sugary and fierce, warred within him. He wasn’t a man given to tenderness, but it struck like a flash flood engulfing him, drowning him, washing him away. Helpless to resist, he could only answer, “I do.”
He wasn’t marrying Melody out of a sense of duty, he realized, or to help her or to keep her safe. He could do that without placing a ring on her finger. No, he stood here repeating sacred vows to love her and honor her for himself. She was spring come into his life; she was hope on a wind-driven rain.
“We never thought this day would come.” Gabe’s middle brother, Nate, shook his head as he passed the sugar bowl to his wife and sipped his black coffee. The hotel’s dining room was the perfect place to celebrate. “Never in all my days would I have thought my tough-as-nails big brother would meet his match.”
“You make it sound like I’ve been bested,” Gabe protested at her side.
“Only matched,” Melody assured him.
He didn’t look comfortable with that thought either. The poor man was used to being tough, closed off and solitary. She supposed it was because he’d spent years as a soldier, where softer feelings could destroy a warrior from the inside out, and also because of his time spent in the most respected law agency in the territory. He’d had to be hard all those years to do his job well and to keep tragedy and hardship from hurting him. Her poor husband, looking lost as his family teased him lovingly.
My husband, she thought, pride and joy making her buoyant.
“I remember when I first met Gabe.” Her sister-in-law, Savannah, married to Nate, shifted their baby daughter in her arms and took a sip of coffee. “He’d just come in off the trail, covered with snow and looking like something out of a dime novel. He asked me out to supper, since Nate had decided to have nothing to do with me.”
“I was only being courteous.” Gabe spoke up. “Do you think I couldn’t tell my brother was in love with you?”
“It did make him jealous, so your plan worked.” Savannah laughed, a warm and friendly sound. It was easy to love her new sister-in-law. They had already made plans to get together and sew and talk.
“The first time I met Gabriel, I was serving supper,” Clara, soon to be Joseph’s wife, chimed in. She’d been working as a maid in the Brooks household at the time. “He was so gruff and big and dark, just the sight of him made me spill the gravy. The housekeeper was furious with me.”
“I’m not scary,” Gabe protested.
“Yes, you are,” half the table argued.
Poor Gabe. High color stained his cheekbones and he drained his coffee cup. He really had no idea how he came across. Intimidating was one word, but amazing was another. She’d never met a bigger man—in all possible ways. Fine, so she was more than a little biased. She’d heard that love could make a woman blind, but not in her case. She saw Gabe clearly—he stood out to her when the rest of the world remained in the background. She slipped her hand under the table and covered his, which rested on his knee. His skin was warm and rough, and she curled her fingers around his, willing comforting into her touch.
He must have felt it, because he held on tight. His gaze felt like a caress to her lips. Remembering the kiss that had never happened, the one she’d wanted so badly, she felt the wish pound through her veins and into every inch of her. She wanted to know her husband’s kiss and the comfort of being loved by him. She adored that he wanted her, too. She knew by the way he held on to her, by the way his eyes turned black. He didn’t look stony or remote—the harsh contours of his face softened. He really was the most handsome man.
“By this time next week, all of my sons will be married.” Mary, rosy cheeked and beaming, clasped her hands together, looking happy beyond measure. “I can’t tell you what it means to know my boys will be loved and happy.”
“Not to mention the grandbabies we get to welcome into the world,” Jake added with the look of a doting patriarch proud of his family.
“And I finally have daughters.” Mary sniffled. “Three of the finest young women a mother could hope for. Hand over your handkerchief, Jake. I put an extra one in your jacket because I knew I would get all
worked up.”
Family. Melody closed her eyes, so full of gratitude it felt as if she would burst. The sadness she’d left behind, the hurt and fear she’d run from faded. The pain in life, regardless of how severe at the time, did not have the power that love did, she discovered. Love made the hard times fade. All that mattered—that could ever matter—was right here at this table.
As if Gabe felt the same, his grip on her hand tightened in unspoken understanding.
Chapter Seven
Gabe checked the last buckle on the harness, the rigging jangled pleasantly and Bucky stomped his right front hoof as if to say he was ready to go. Rain beat angrily against the livery stable roof as he grabbed the gelding by the bit and glanced over his shoulder. His brothers were busy—Nate was unrolling the rain curtains and Joseph was securing them in place. The long ride home for his family would be cool but not wet.
He couldn’t explain why he felt a warning tingle at the back of his neck, or that instinctive punch to his gut when there was something he ought to be noticing, something that was amiss.
“Need any advice for the wedding night?” Nate hopped down from the buggy with a two-footed thump. Judging by the grin on his face, he was getting a kick out of this.
“I don’t need help from you.” Maybe the upcoming night was troubling him some. He waited until Joseph was done before he led the gelding, buggy rattling, through the double doors and into the storm. He caught sight of Austin Dermot looking depressed as he tossed back a shot of what looked like whiskey in his front office, poor fellow. He felt bad for the livery owner, but he was glad of the gold ring on his left hand.
He’d won the best gal, and it took all his strength not to let his mind leap ahead of him, but it kept whispering at him and it was hard keeping those whisperings silent. Tonight he would be staying with Melody. They would share a bed and more. He swallowed hard, trying to block images from his mind. Of how desirous she looked with her hair down, of her round full breasts and long legs hidden beneath layers of clothes he would get to peel away one by one.