His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  The boy rushed to her side, smiling for the first time since meeting him as he took her hand and helped her up onto the wagon seat. He hesitated for a moment before looking at Rafe. “You going to drive us back or just stand there?”

  Rafe stood motionless for far longer than Grace liked. She half wondered if he was going to refuse. He could have. Instead, he rounded the front of the wagon, climbed into the seat beside of her and took the reins. He gave her a look before shaking his head and turning the mule. They were rattling down the rutted road out of town before Grace realized how improper this all was. She was leaving with a man and a boy with no proper chaperone, traveling to their home. Of course, she’d traveled across the country without one but the people she met then didn’t know her. These people, she’d see whenever she came to town. What would they think of her knowing where she was living?

  They would think the worst.

  She bit back a groan. She would be ruined. Even if she found other unmarried men in town, would they want her once they realized she was living under the same roof as this man and young boy? Her reputation would be in shambles and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She had no choice. Did she?

  She glanced at Rafe out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he had a wife at home. For some odd reason, the thought made Grace’s heart kick inside her chest. She almost asked him but decided against it. Of course, if he were married, the situation wouldn’t be so perilous. Another woman in the house would halt some of the gossip she knew would be coming her way, but she couldn’t find her voice enough to ask the man if he had a woman waiting for him at home. She chose to believe he didn’t. They would have made mention of her, right?

  He was staring straight ahead, his hat pulled down low over his face so his eyes were shielded from the glare of the sun. His profile showed a strong jaw line with a dusting of stubble from a beard growing in. His nose was straight and narrow, his eyes deep set. He turned to look at her then and when she met his gaze, her heart slammed against her ribcage so hard it stole her breath. He was so beautiful, his soulful eyes mesmerizing.

  The situation was going to be difficult. Having a bridegroom who was no more than a child was distressing enough, but his too-handsome brother, Rafe, would be a problem she wasn’t sure how to avoid.

  Her attraction to him was undeniable. She’d felt it the moment he stepped onto the sidewalk and turned those oh-so-green eyes on her. How would she ever be able to deal with the situation of being promised to one brother while secretly wanting another? And how did she go about finding a husband in this small town while living under the roof of a man she couldn’t help but want?

  Chapter Four

  Rafe fought the urge to look at her again. Every time he did, his muscles tensed, his heart rate soared and all the blood in his body started to head south.

  She was the prettiest thing he’d seen in years. Her blonde hair glistened like spun gold in the sunlight. Her ivory skin was flawless and her eyes were so blue they looked violet. Her lips were rosy pink and full, lashes longer than any he’d seen and the womanly curves he noticed taking shape in her dress caused his mouth to go dry. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having at all ran rampant through his mind and he had to remind himself who she was and why she was here.

  Jesse had done something most men died trying to do and he’d done it without much effort. He found a beautiful woman to be his wife and he’d be the envy of every man in town, himself included. His brother’s wife was a looker. An angel sent through a mail-order bride agency. He almost laughed at the thought of it. What were the odds?

  Every man in town would be sending off for a bride now. Chances are, none of them would look like Grace Kingston. He still couldn’t believe she’d answered Jesse’s ad. He’d seen plenty of the women who answered those listings and never had he seen one that looked anything like this one. They were all plain, too tall, and shapeless.

  Grace wasn’t.

  Her skirts filled the seat and the material rustled as the wagon jolted down the road. The fabric was unlike any he’d seen around here. It was too shiny. Too pink. Too fancy by half. Her hat alone told him she didn’t belong in Willow Creek. The thing sat at an odd angle on her head and the top was filled with flowers and feathers. On anyone else, he thought it would have looked ridiculous. On her, it reaffirmed his belief that she didn’t belong here. She had money. Lots of it from the looks of her and her trunks. Which begged the question, what was she doing in Montana, promised to a fourteen year old boy?

  He wanted to laugh just thinking about it. His brother, hot-headed little shit that he was, had snagged himself a real jewel, one Rafe knew he wouldn’t be able to keep. Why she’d agreed to come along with them puzzled him. He glanced at her, wondering if she planned to go through with the marriage and the thought made his stomach ache for reason’s he didn’t want to think about.

  The trip back to the farm was made in silence and Rafe was glad for it. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to say much if he was forced to do so. When they entered the main gate and he steered the wagon toward the house, the look on Grace’s face caused his heart to leap into his throat. She looked horrified, as she should be.

  When he stopped, pushing the brake lever with his foot and looping the reins around it, he jumped to the ground and looked up at her. She was still sitting there, staring at the house with wide eyes. Rafe looked as well and sighed. The house was all to hell. Had been since he rolled into the yard six months earlier. The entire ranch was a wreck. The only thing he could be grateful for was the fact the animals were healthy and he still had a decent size herd of steer. They wouldn’t get rich from them but just as Jesse had said, they’d keep them from starving. He hoped.

  Grace stared at the house in stunned silence. It was two stories, just as Jesse’s letters had said, but that was about all you could say for it. The windows were so dirty she couldn’t see a thing beyond them. The railing on the porch was broken, most of it having fallen into the yard. Two chairs sat by the front door, one leaning precariously to the left.

  Chickens ran loose, pecking at the dirt around the house and Grace searched for a single blade of grass. She found it in the pasture where cattle stood grazing.

  A barn off to her left looked as pitiful as the house. A hole large enough to fit the wagon inside glared at her from the roof and the lean-to off to one side was at an odd angle. A few buildings further from the house were in ill repair and all in all, the entire place was in ruins.

  And this was to be her home?

  She turned to look at Rafe where he stood by the wagon. He had the nerve to smile at her, spread his arms wide and say, “Welcome home.” He glanced at Jesse before nodding to him. “Take her things in, unhitch this wagon and come help me with the roof.” He turned and walked away without a backward glance at her. She watched him disappear inside the barn before she looked back to the house. The thought of what lay inside caused her stomach to ache. She could only imagine.

  Turning to look behind her at Jesse, she offered him a tentative smile. “Could you help me down?” He jumped from the wagon and rounded the side, offering her his hand. When her feet were on the ground, she took a deep breath and glanced in the direction Rafe had gone before making her way to the house.

  Her spirits were about as low as they could get, or so she thought, when she stepped over the threshold of the house. She was stunned, too overwhelmed by the shape of the interior to even move. She only did when Jesse prodded her to do so as he started carrying her trunks inside. She watched him take them upstairs, the boards creaking with every step he took before she looked back at the sitting room.

  The furniture was in decent shape but the fabric coverings were old and faded. A thick layer of dust lay on every surface and the ashes sitting in the bottom of the fireplace looked as if they’d been there for years. The curtains hanging over the windows were so dark brown, she couldn’t tell if that was the color of them or if they were just that dirty. She was betting on dirty. Ever
ything else was. Even the floor. She could see a trail through the dust that led from the stairs into the next room. She followed it, finding an unused dining room then the kitchen just beyond. This room, unlike the others, wasn’t in as bad a shape. Well, dirt didn’t cover every surface. There were dishes sitting on the shelf above the sink. The table looked clean but the stove gave her pause. Dried food splatters were cooked onto its surface. The floor looked as if someone had tried to sweep it but it did little good.

  Turning and exploring the rest of the house, Grace was met with the same sight in every room. The bedrooms weren’t littered with dust but she could tell it had been ages since anyone bothered to give them a thorough cleaning. When she’d seen all she cared to, she searched for Jesse. She found him in the bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall. The room was larger than the others she’d seen and from the smell of it, it hadn’t been aired out in a while.

  She smiled at him when he turned to look at her. Her things were stacked in the corner by the dresser and she gave the space another look. “Is this to be my room?” she asked, knowing the question was dumb before the words were out of her mouth.

  He nodded his head at her, his face once again turning bright red. “Yeah. Used to be my ma and pa’s room but it’s ours now. If it’s okay with ya.”

  Grace stared at him, his use of the word “ours” ringing inside her head. She watched his ears turn red before he cleared his throat and said, “We can wait until the wedding before I move in though.” He fidgeted, swiped at his nose with his fist and shot her a quick glance. “Unless you want me to move in now.”

  She blinked at him. Move in? To her room? It took her a full minute to find her voice. “Well, seeing as we’re not properly wed, maybe we should wait. It’s improper enough for me even to be living here before we’re married, let alone us sharing a room.” He looked ready to run and Grace had to wonder how much the boy even wanted a wife. He didn’t look as if he was that worldly but what did she know of boys? Most women waited for marriage to act upon any such fleshly desires. How the male half of the population went about things was beyond her knowledge.

  He looked relieved with her answer, his breath let out in one long sigh. “Don’t matter to me none. Rafe’s the one said I had to sleep in your room.”

  “Did he now?” Grace could only imagine what that man had said. He seemed to enjoy watching her squirm in town when confronted with the fact she’d promised herself to a fourteen-year-old boy. Of course, just thinking of him caused her pulse to jump and his image floated in her minds eye moments later. There was trouble waiting for her where he was concerned. She could feel it in her bones.

  “Well, I’m sure with a thorough cleaning the room will be just fine.” She walked to the bed, laying her hand on the blanket spread across the top. It would need replaced before she slept on the thing. Turning, she smiled at Jesse before placing her bag on the bed. “I don’t suppose you have someone who helps with the chores in the house, do you?

  “Someone like who?”

  “Well, a hired servant? Or a woman from another farm who helps?”

  Jesse shook his head “Nope. Just me and Rafe. We do what we have to.”

  “I see.” Grace turned a full circle, noticing the dust collecting on the dresser top. The house was a mess and no one would be around to clean it. No one but her, that is.

  Was this why Jesse had ordered a wife? He needed someone to clean his house? She let her gaze linger on him while letting her last thought run through her mind. If he didn’t have anyone to clean, that meant no one would be there to cook either. She sighed. The boy wasn’t looking for a wife, he was looking for a mother.

  Marrying and having a family of her own is all she’d wanted when she set out to find a husband but she didn’t expect her first child to be a fourteen-year-old boy. “I think I’ll get settled in,” she said. “Besides, I do believe Rafe asked for your help in the barn.”

  Jesse snorted and his face twisted into a grimace. “He thinks he owns the place. Let him fix it.”

  The animosity in his voice was clear. For whatever reason, he and Rafe didn’t get along. A host of questions popped into her mind but she ignored them. There was plenty of time for that. “Well then, what do you do around here?”

  “Cook and clean but since I got you now, I don’t have to do that anymore. I can do other things.”

  “Like what?”

  He looked perplexed before shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll find something. My pa was busy from sun up to sundown. I’ll just do what he did.”

  “Do you think he would fix the roof on the barn?” She bit back a smile when he shot her a look.

  He glanced out the window where the barn sat. Grace looked as well. Rafe stood on the roof staring down at the hole. He’d shed his coat, letting her see that the breadth of his shoulders was just as wide without the added bulk of all that material. He lifted his hat, pushing his hair back before resettling it and bending to grab a plank that lay by his foot. She watched him work for several minutes before the sound of her name startled her. She turned to Jesse, seeing a frown on his face.

  “I’m going to go help Rafe. You need me to cook supper tonight or can you handle it?”

  She smiled to cover her embarrassment of being caught staring at Rafe. “I think I can manage. Anything in particular you would like?”

  He shook his head and started across the room. “Don’t matter to me.” He stopped when he reached the door. “Well, as long as it ain’t eggs. I’m sick of ‘em.”

  “Isn’t,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “As long as it isn’t eggs. Ain’t isn’t proper.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her before shaking his head and leaving the room. She listened to his feet shuffle across the floor and the stairs creaking under his weight before turning back to the window. Rafe looked up then, his gaze focused on the house, and even though Grace knew he couldn’t see her through the dirt coating the window, her pulse leaped and butterfly’s danced in her stomach.

  She turned, putting him out of her mind. She had more important things to think about than how handsome Rafe Samuels was. Like figuring out a way to break Jesse’s heart without causing too much pain.

  Chapter Five

  The sun was setting by the time Rafe walked across the yard toward the house. He stopped by the water pump, filling the bucket and giving his face and hands a scrub. The air was filled with the scent of cooking food and his stomach had been growling since noon. He hoped whatever Grace had fixed wasn’t eggs. He was sick of them.

  Jesse ran into the house in front of him, the door slamming as it closed behind him and Rafe shook his head. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into the boy. Jesse had climbed the ladder onto the barn roof after taking Grace’s things inside and started helping him with the repairs without a word said. Which suited him just fine. The less they talked, the less they fought. His sudden urge to help was uncharacteristic and he wondered where the sudden desire came from. He hadn’t asked but he had an idea.

  When Rafe stepped into the house, his hunch was proven right. Jesse was there, standing by the sink, his face and hands washed while his gaze followed Grace as she flitted around the kitchen setting dishes on the table. She looked up at him as he shut the door, their gazes clashing for brief moments before she looked away. He hung his coat and hat on the peg by the door and smoothed his hair back. Then, he just stood there. He glanced at Jesse. Maybe that’s why the kid was standing like a statue by the sink. He didn’t know what to do either.

  The last time Rafe remembered a woman in this kitchen, it had been his ma, some ten years earlier, before he took off to fight a war that left more scars than he wished to think about. His ma had spent most of her days cooking and cleaning and from the looks of the room, Grace had done the same.

  She’d traded in her frilly pink dress and feathered hat for a less fancy version. There were no ruffles on this one and the color was a dark green. Her hair was pinned to the back o
f her head, a few whips falling down around her face. An old flour sack was tied around her waist as an apron and without all the ruffles from her fancy dress Rafe could see how tiny she was. Her waist was small, his hands would span it with little help, and the curve of her hips was more enticing than it should have been. He looked away when she turned toward him.

  “Do you two eat standing up?”

  Jesse cleared his throat and took a step toward the table. “No ma’am. Just waitin’ til you was finished.”

  “Waiting until you were finished,” she said, correcting him. Rafe watched Jesse’s face, waiting for the blush, but the frown he threw her way was unexpected. He shot a look at him before he grabbed one of the chairs and plopped down in the seat like he couldn’t hold his body weight up any longer. When Grace turned to look at him, Rafe followed suit and took his place at the head of the table.

  Rafe looked at what Grace had sat out for them in astonishment. He wasn’t even sure where she got most of it. Of course, he didn’t make a habit of cataloging the larder every day but he wasn’t aware there was so much variety. A small ham sat in the center of the table. Corn, green beans cooked with onions and bacon and fresh biscuits still steaming and dripping with butter met his gaze. He didn’t see them but he smelled apples, too. He glanced at the oven and hoped it held those apples, preferably stuffed into a piecrust with plenty of cinnamon and sugar.

  When Grace grabbed his plate and started filling it, Jesse looked over at him. The hard glare he was throwing his way said his little brother didn’t like not being served first. Rafe smiled at him and looked up at Grace when she sat his plate back in front of him. “Thanks,” he mumbled, picking up his fork.