His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  He sighed and shook his head, pushing thoughts of Grace out of his mind. He would drive himself crazy if he didn’t. Thinking of her only brought home the realization that he couldn’t have her regardless of how much he actually wanted her. He stopped, his last thought whispering across his mind again. He wanted her. He wanted Grace for his own.

  Dread filled him with the moment the notion took root. He shook his head, realized the truth of it as far back as the stagecoach station, when she looked up at him with those violet eyes and stole his heart with a single smile.

  He wanted her. He would admit it, but he’d be damned if he did anything about it.

  Chapter Ten

  Grace took in the town of Willow Creek with a less critical eye. She realized now she’d misjudged it when arriving. Sure it was nothing like Boston, but what town was? Especially one so far west as this.

  The streets were still deeply rutted but on closer inspection, the buildings seemed solid enough. Some were in need of whitewashing but other than that, the two-story facades were very similar to those she’d seen in larger settlements.

  A school house sat at the end of the street, set off by itself with a large play area on one side. A new building was being erected in front of it and was positioned right beside the marshal’s office, which was the first building in the row, followed by what looked to be a hotel at the end of the street.

  Grace was surprised to see the hotel. She wouldn’t have thought a town so small would have one, but with the stagecoach line running through Willow Creek, it made sense.

  The mercantile was in the middle of town, and across the street was the Diamondback Saloon. The riotous music and painted women hovering near the door told you that much without the sign hanging over the door.

  Grace turned her attention from town toward Jesse as he parked the wagon in front of the store and ran around to help her down. “Thank you, Jesse.”

  “Welcome.”

  He glanced down the street toward the school and Grace wondered then why he didn’t attend. She left the question for later discussion and turned toward the store. “Is there anything I should know before going in?”

  “Like what?”

  She smiled. “Well, is there a limit to what I may spend? Should I give the clerk your name or Rafe’s? Is there anything in particular you would like for me to purchase?”

  Jesse’s brows scrunched as he thought. He shrugged his shoulder after considering her questions. “Nope. You can spend what you like and I can’t think of nothing I need. I’ll go in and tell Mrs. Jenkins it’s all right for ya to be charging on our account.”

  He went in without another word and came back out moments later. He looked back toward the school and Grace followed his gaze. The children were all in the yard, playing some sort of game. She smiled before clutching her reticule. “What will you do while I’m inside?”

  “Nothing much.” He glanced at her before looking back down the street. “You need any help, just ask Mrs. Jenkins. She’s a nice enough lady. I’ll get whatever you buy when I come back to fetch ya.”

  He left then, heading down the sidewalk toward the school. Grace smiled at his retreating form before turning to the mercantile. She walked in and let her eyes adjust to the low light.

  When she could see inside the dimly lit building, her spirits plummeted. This was not what she’d been expecting.

  The mercantile was cluttered from floor to ceiling with goods. Large wooden barrels took up most of the space. Tables with clothing stacked on top ran along the walls and near the back, Grace could see cloth goods and bolts upon bolts of fabric in the most unattractive colors she’d ever seen.

  A woman with graying hair was standing behind the counter staring at her. She was thin with a pinched expression. Small spectacles were perched on her nose and the woman’s eyes looked too large for her face.

  Grace smiled at her and straightened her spine. “Hello.”

  The woman nodded her head. “How do?”

  “Very fine, thank you.” Grace gave the store another quick look before walking to the counter. “Are you Mrs. Jenkins?”

  “I am. You the lady Jesse was talking about?”

  “Yes. I’m Grace Kingston.”

  Mrs. Jenkins looked up at Grace’s hat, studying it for long moments before looking down at her dress. “Where you come from?”

  “Boston.”

  Mrs. Jenkins nodded her head again. “That what people are wearing in the big city’s?”

  Grace glanced at her dress. “It is.” She looked at Mrs. Jenkins own dress and smiled. It was unembellished. A simple work dress, the type of garment Grace herself needed to be wearing. “Yours is very nice as well. Can I purchase one just like it here or will I need to order one?”

  Mrs. Jenkins eyes widened a bit before looking down at her plain brown cotton dress. “What would you want something like this for?”

  Normally, Grace wouldn’t have. The material looked scratchy, the color reminded her of mud and the cut was unflattering. But it would be perfect for work around the house. She’d seen the looks Rafe gave her while she worked around the kitchen in her sateen dresses. They were unsuitable for work. The dress Mrs. Jenkins had on was perfect. “I need work dresses,” Grace finally said. “Everything I have is similar to this one.”

  “I got a few.” Mrs. Jenkins looked at Grace’s dress again. Her eyes lit up as she took it all in and Grace held back a smile. “They’re fancier than the one I’m wearing but only because there’s flowers on them. The cut is the same.”

  “Wonderful!” Grace turned toward the back of the store. “Are they back there?”

  “Yes.”

  Grace set her reticule on the counter and reached inside, pulling the note she’d written her list on. She handed it to Mrs. Jenkins before venturing to the back of the store to look through the dresses. Nearly a half hour had gone by when Jesse came into the store. Grace was still looking at dresses when he stopped beside of her. “Have I been long?” she asked.

  “No. I just got bored.”

  “Oh. Well, I think Mrs. Jenkins may have the food stuff I wanted packed.”

  Jesse looked at the dresses Grace had draped across her arm. “You ain’t getting those, are ya?”

  Grace looked at the dresses. They were plain, in flowered prints, Calico the sign said, but they were practical. She smiled and said, “Yes. Don’t you like them?”

  “They’re all right. Your fancy ones are better though. Those will make you look like every other woman in town and you ain’t. You’re purtier than all of ‘em put together.”

  He blushed after giving her the compliment and turned without another word. Grace smiled and walked across the store to the counter. “Hello again,” she said in greeting to Mrs. Jenkins. She set the things in her hand down. “I’d like to get these as well but I don’t like putting my personal purchases on the Samuels’ account. Would you be willing to trade?”

  Mrs. Jenkins eyed Grace’s hat. “Depends.”

  Grace smiled. “I have some very fine pieces of jewelry I would be willing to barter.”

  Mrs. Jenkins tilted her head as if thinking. “We could use some nice stuff. The men folk are always looking for baubles to buy their wives.”

  Grace would have to look through her jewelry when she got back to the ranch. She had no use for it now. There was no one to impress in Willow Creek, after all.

  Seeing Mrs. Jenkins looking at her hat gave her another thought. “I have more than a few dresses I would be willing to trade as well. With hats to match, of course.”

  The smile Mrs. Jenkins threw her would have brightened the room in the dead of night. “How many dresses?”

  “I don’t know. I brought everything I own. I’ll go through them tonight and see what I’m willing to do without. In the meantime, what about these things? What would you take for them?”

  Mrs. Jenkins looked Grace over again and smiled as her gaze snagged on the brooch at Grace’s bosom. “How ‘bout that?”<
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  Grace lifted her hand and unpinned the brooch. It was a cameo, a gift from a suitor who had her father’s fortune dancing in his eyes. When he found out the money was gone, so was he.

  The brooch was lovely but held no real sentimental value. Laying it on the counter, Grace smiled. “You have an excellent eye, Mrs. Jenkins. This is real mother of pearl and the gold is of very good quality. It would make a very fine piece for one of your customers.”

  “It’s expensive then?”

  “Oh yes. It was custom made by a jeweler in Boston.”

  Mrs. Jenkins’ eyes lit up. She looked over the things Grace had laid on the counter. Four dresses, several pairs of socks and a pair of sturdy work boots. “I can give you all that and some store credit for it.”

  Grace smiled. “It’s a trade, then. Thank you.”

  “Pleasure was all mine.” Mrs. Jenkins grabbed the dresses, folded them and wrapped them in brown paper, along with the socks. She boxed the boots and placed everything on the counter. “You still going to bring the dresses by?”

  “Oh, most certainly,” Grace said.

  “Good. I’m sure the ladies in Willow Creek would love to get their hands on some fancy things that didn’t need to be ordered.”

  “That would be wonderful. I’ll see what I have and bring them back to town for you.”

  When everything was totaled and added to the sales book, Grace said her goodbyes to Mrs. Jenkins and walked outside, slipping her kid gloves back on and popping her parasol open to shade her from the sun. Jesse was still packing all their purchases so she waited on the sidewalk for him to finish.

  The people in town gave her curious looks and she smiled at anyone who looked her way. She was almost positive everyone at the stagecoach station who’d witnessed the scene when Rafe and Jesse had come for her had spread the tale of what they’d seen far and wide. From the glances she kept getting, she would bet money on it. If she were the betting kind.

  A ruckus further down the street drew her attention. Several men on horseback came racing into town, their horses throwing up a cloud of dust in their wake. When they stopped in front of the saloon, Grace noticed one of them looked like the man who owned the ranch next to Jesse and Rafe. Ben Crowley, she recalled Jesse calling him. When one of the other men said his name, her guess was confirmed.

  Up close, he was just as big as she’d thought. He was older than Rafe if the lines on his face were any way to judge. His skin was tanned brown from the sun and his darkened complexion made his hair look a brighter shade of blond. His clothes were dirty and his horse was lathered.

  When he turned and looked her way, she wished she wouldn’t have been looking at him. He smiled at her and crossed the road.

  “Afternoon, ma’am.” He took off his hat, tipping it to her before placing it back on his head. “I hear congratulations are in order.” Ben looked at Jesse and grinned.

  “Thank you, Mr. Crowley,” Grace said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Heard of me, then?”

  “Yes. Jesse informed me who you were when you stopped by the house.”

  “I just bet he did.” He gave her a look from head to toe, his gaze lingering on the neckline of her dress. He smiled and Grace noticed he had all his teeth but the stains coloring them shades of yellow and brown weren’t very becoming. “When is the big day?” he asked.

  “Soon,” she said. “I believe the preacher is out of town at the moment.”

  “Probably will be for a while yet.” Ben grinned, the sight of his stained teeth causing Grace to turn her head. “Folks might start talking with you shacked up with Rafe and Jesse the way you are.”

  “People will spread rumors regardless of the facts, Mr. Crowley.”

  “Maybe but people get curious.” Something in his tone made Grace look back at him. He was leering at her, his gaze fixed on her breasts. “You earning your keep over there at Rafe’s place?”

  Grace was taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

  Ben looked her in the eye then. “Earning your keep,” he said again, his voice pitched low. “You know, cooking, cleaning… keeping Rafe company when the kid ain’t around?” He laughed, a wheezing little sound that spoke of illness. “Lord knows if I had a woman like you in my house, I’d have you underneath me every chance I got, butt ass naked and screaming my name.”

  Insulted to the root of her soul, Grace lashed out instinctively. She slapped his face. When he laughed at her, she slapped him again.

  He grabbed her wrist in a grip hard enough to bruise and it wasn’t until she gasped from the pain that she remembered Jesse. He’d apparently seen the entire confrontation. He rammed into Ben’s middle with both shoulders, taking all three of them to the ground.

  Grace sat stunned for long moments before checking herself and standing. Ben’s foremen on the other side of the street came running and within seconds, the street was filled with bystanders watching Ben and Jesse roll across the sidewalk screaming and yelling.

  The scuffle should have frightened her but anger at Ben’s rude words and the fact he was fighting with a child overrode the fear. When Ben grabbed Jesse around the neck and yelled in his face, Grace lifted her leg and kicked the foul man where his unborn grandchildren would feel it. The unmanly scream he let out reached the other end of town, everyone out and about stopped and looked their way, including the marshal. He ran toward them seconds later.

  By the time Marshal Avery reached the brawling trio, both Ben and Jesse were bleeding and Grace was screaming like a banshee and stomping on the man as if he were on fire.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rafe tied his horses reins to the hitching post in front of the marshal’s office and ignored the group of people milling around on the sidewalk. He’d been knee deep in mucking out stalls when Percy Goins came riding into the yard yelling that there was trouble in town. A fight of some sort and Jesse and Grace were right in the middle of it.

  He opened the door to the marshal’s office and walked inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low light. Someone in the back was yelling, threatening to burn the whole town down. The moment he recognized the voice as belonging to Ben Crowley, he grimaced. What had happened now?

  Childhood friend, and the marshal in Willow Creek, Morgan Avery, walked into the room from the hall and smiled when he saw him standing there. “You missed a hell of a show, Rafe.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He crossed the room and held out his hand to his old friend. “How you been, Morgan?” The two men shook hands and the look on Morgan’s face held a hint of mischief. Rafe couldn’t remember a time when it hadn’t. Of all the Avery’s, Morgan was the one who held himself back from the rest but his amusement was always clear. It showed in the sun-darkened plains of his face. Seeing Morgan always brought back memories of youth, some of which he’d just as soon forget.

  “I’ve been good,” Morgan said before laughing, “You’ve got a handful over on that ranch of yours, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “That little lady you have staying with you is one hell of a wild cat. I think she may have blacked my eye.”

  Rafe listened as Morgan explained what had happened. He didn’t believe half of it. Well, Ben’s participation in it he did, but Grace? Brawling on a sidewalk like some drunkard.

  When he had all the facts, Rafe looked toward the back where the cells were. “You got them all back there?”

  “Yes. I hated putting her in there Rafe but she was fighting mad when I tried to break the fight up.” He laughed and rubbed the side of his face. “She has a wicked right hook.”

  Morgan led him down the hall to the cells. Sure enough, there was Grace, sitting on the edge of the cot with her ridiculous looking hat on, her feathers rumpled and the bird nest close to falling off. Her clothes were wrinkled and dirty, her hair falling down in places and the guilt on her face would have brought him a weeks worth of amusement any other time. Today, it just annoyed the hell out of him.

  Morgan walked back into the front roo
m and Rafe looked around the other cells and spotted Jesse. The boy was slouched against the wall holding a towel to his bleeding head. His throat looked a funny shade of blue and he was staring at the floor. Ben, of course, was grinning. Rafe ignored him and turned to Grace. “Marshall says you started a brawl in the street.”

  She flashed him a look hot enough to singe the hide off of him before turning that heated glare to Ben and pointed a finger at him. “That man insulted me. He deserved everything that happened to him.”

  “The hell I did,” Ben yelled, walking across the cell and grabbing onto the bars. “You damn near stomped my cock into chicken food.”

  “I’m sure they wouldn’t want it if it smells as bad as the rest of you!” Grace raised a hand to her mouth then, her eyes wide as she looked at Rafe. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very ladylike.”

  Rafe tilted his head to her. “Neither is stomping on a man’s cock.”

  “Well, he deserved it and I’d do it again.”

  And she probably would, too. Rafe looked at Jesse. “You okay, kid?”

  For once, Jesse didn’t argue about being called a kid. He looked up, tears in his eyes. That alone made him want to take Ben out back and show him what a real beating felt like.

  He turned and walked back into the main room and found Morgan. “Are they being charged?”

  “No. There wasn’t any real damage done. From the way I hear it, Ben let his mouth get in the way again and promptly got it slapped. Unless he wants to press charges, which I doubt he does, they’re free to go.” Morgan stood from his chair and raised an eyebrow at Rafe. “Unless you want to file your own charges. A grown man has no right to be fighting with a boy, let alone a lady.”