Her hands slipped up to cover her face and her slim shoulders began to shake. “No, I didn’t know.”
Muffled as her voice was, he’d heard her. He stood there for a moment, the sound of her weeping colliding against his ears like a crashing wave. He wanted to go to her, to hold her and console her. But he was sure she wouldn’t yield to his embrace, that she’d keep herself apart from him.
He warred with himself for a few tense seconds, then surrendered with an expelled breath. He crossed the room, reached out, and awkwardly patted her arm. The pats soon turned into a soft grasp, a pulling her toward him. And by the same instinct that often prompted him to comfort Georgie, he drew Katie into his arms.
And by an instinct that was nothing like the one that prompted him to comfort Georgie, he lowered his head and kissed her, tentatively, just above her right brow. Then again near her ear, and in her loose hair, more than once.
She went rigid and jerked away from him.
Though he’d expected her reaction, it still cut like a blade. Am I really so repellent to her? The thought worsened his pain for an instant. But then he looked closer. In the rapid rise and fall of her chest, he saw something very unlike repulsion.
He summoned his willpower and stepped away from her. Watched as her hands formed fists at her sides. From her safe distance, she blew the hair out of her eyes, the puff forceful.
“You came storming in here,” she fumed, “and berated me like a child.”
He kept his voice even with effort. “I’d just had some disconcerting news.”
Her eyes shot flames at him. “Don’t pretend you care.”
The boiling within him, formerly diminished to a low simmer, leaped back to life. “You decided, without consulting me, to take our child and sail across an unpredictable sea, and you say I don’t care?”
“I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of watching over him for a few short months.”
“My concern for Georgie’s safety is nothing compared to my concern for…his desire to return at all.” The moment he’d spoken the nonsensical words, he wished them back. But it was too late.
Her expression turned from obstinate to quizzical. “He’s two years old. He won’t know the difference between one side of the ocean and the other.”
“He’s not the one who’s keen to get away from me. Nor the one breaking my heart.”
She stared.
He longed to unsay it. There was no way she could mistake it now, his caring. He might as well follow through with the rest. Yes, I’m in love with you. Please, please, don’t go.
But she’d loved his brother once, and he knew he couldn’t bear hearing that she still did.
Katie steeled herself against the guilt. She shouldn’t have made plans without consulting him, of course. But does he think I’ve enjoyed being treated like a used-up pair of shoes?
She searched her mind for a civil response. Help me, Father. “It’s been difficult,” she said finally. “Knowing you haven’t forgiven me for my—for Jackson.”
There was a lengthy silence.
“I’m hardly qualified to throw the first stone,” he said.
Had she only imagined his bitterness? “That night in your room, when you spoke of Jackson, I reached out to you, and—” She faltered under his steadfast gaze.
“I pulled away?” A ghost of a grin touched his lips. “If you must know, confounded helpless passion can take odd forms at times. I was afraid that my brother held a place in your heart, a place I might never possess.”
A tingle began, somewhere in her middle, a sprouting of hope. But she maintained her wary distance.
“The truth is,” he said, “I’ve wanted to make amends for some time.” He reached to brush the back of his hair, a discomfited gesture. “In the beginning, I did condemn you, which I greatly regret. But then I stopped seeing a fallen woman and began to see the mother of my child, a faithful wife, a true Christian. By that night in my room, my feelings had changed completely. Only…” Again he seemed to have trouble looking at her. “I was jealous, pure and simple.”
She gaped at him. All these months, she’d thought he’d rejected her, and he was merely jealous? “You had no reason to be.”
He hesitated. Swallowed. “Then tell me you don’t still care for him.”
She hoped her eyes would assure him. “I never did, not really. It was a fleeting infatuation, gone long before the sun rose.” Her cheeks burned, her gaze departed from his. It mortified her to discuss such a subject with him.
Apparently he didn’t suffer the same embarrassment. He narrowed the space between them in two steps, tipped her chin up with one finger. “You’ve no need to blush in front of me. I’m your husband, you know.”
At the moment, all she knew was that his finger now traced a path along her jaw and across her lips. And that the expanse of his chest, soft in its gray pullover, beckoned her, as did his scent of pine needles and cloves.
“I was—” She strained to formulate words. “The reality was, I was naive. I had accepted a ride home in his carriage, very stupidly. He asked if he could come inside for a cup of tea, and then…” Tears formed in her eyes. “It was one time, Henry, and it was over.”
“Hush, you’ve told me now.” He slid his hand up, tilted her chin upward once again. “Let’s be done with it, shall we?”
She nodded but couldn’t quite meet his gaze.
“I’ve been a wretched lout of a husband,” he said. “But God is different than I am. He promises to forgive our sins, and our lawless deeds to ‘remember no more.’ ” He broke into a charming smile. “Might we try to do the same?”
At his question, her heart overflowed with joy. God, how gracious You are. She was clothed in mercy from on high and never wanted to leave the heavenly warmth.
She was drawn back to earth by the husky sound of her husband’s voice.
“I assume you know I want to kiss you?”
She nearly lost her breath, had trouble nodding.
He rubbed a hand across his barely whiskered jaw. A flush began in his neck and continued up to his hairline. “I also assume you know that—that I love you.”
She knew how hard it was for him to say it. Men in his highbrow world didn’t care to make such deeply personal confessions. So she wound her arms around his neck and gave him a cheeky grin.
“Tell me again,” she said. Then she raised her face toward his, to welcome the words of love he whispered against her lips.
Rebecca Jepson is a homebody who loves a good book, a cup of freshly ground coffee, and all things autumn. She dreamed of being a writer since she was thirteen and has been creating stories ever since. She has traveled extensively, to places that inspire her stories. Her favorite destinations include Russia, New England, and the Alaskan wilderness. She lives in sunny Reno, Nevada, with her software engineer husband, Mike.
Not So Pretty Penny
by Amy Lillard
Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.
SONG OF SOLOMON 4:7
Chapter 1
Kansas, 1867
Penelope Pinehurst marched down the wooden sidewalk ignoring the looks she received. She was accustomed to people staring at her, and frankly she didn’t care. She had a mission today, and she was going to see it through. Her heart thumped in her chest at the thought of what she was about to do. Still, regardless of her anxiety over the situation, she had prayed about it, and she knew this was her only answer.
She paused at the entrance to the sheriff’s office and nervously smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. She really wished she had something better to wear for such a special occasion, but the war had been hard on them all. Still a day dress made from twice-turned-out flour sacks wasn’t the best attire to meet one’s destiny. And that’s exactly what she was here to do.
She stiffened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and strengthened her resolve. This was her answer. The only answer she had. With more aplomb than she truly had, she trooped
into the building.
The sheriff sat behind his desk, feet braced on top, hands behind his head, hat tilted to shade his eyes from the sun streaming through the windows. She didn’t know if he was asleep or merely ignoring her. He didn’t move as she halted in front of his desk.
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat hoping to gain his attention. No such luck. “Ahem.” Louder this time. But still he didn’t move.
“Sheriff.” She tried again. And still he didn’t move. Looking around she found a large book sitting to the side of his desk. She had no idea what it was doing there. As far as she knew the sheriff couldn’t read. Not one to cast stones, she was glad the book was there. It would serve her purpose nicely. She picked it up with both hands and released it, allowing it to land on the desk with a loud thwack.
“What—?” The sheriff was on his feet in an instant. It might’ve been hard for her to wake him, but he seemed to be very alert once she got him there.
He looked around as if he was somehow expecting to be ambushed, then caught sight of her and grimaced.
She didn’t mind. She was used to such looks. She got them from everybody she encountered. He could look at her however he wanted. Just as long as he found her a husband.
“Sheriff Riley,” she started, “I’m in need of a husband.”
He eyed her warily as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. Was he afraid that she had set her sights on him? Not likely. The sheriff wasn’t marrying material, and a lawman running off and getting killed was the last thing she needed. Her brother and her father had gone off to war and never came back. She still prayed every night that they would return, and in her heart God assured her they would. She just had to keep on—to persevere. She had to have faith. And so she would. But more than faith, she needed a strong back to work the land, plant the seeds, and help bring in a crop. A strong back that she didn’t have. And then there was the matter of her neighbor.
“A husband?” the sheriff asked.
She nodded, her straw hat moving slightly with the motion. Her hat pin was slightly on the worn side, not quite as strong as it used to be. But that wouldn’t matter as soon as she got this crop in.
“I heard about this town where a woman could buy a husband if’n she had enough money. A husband from the gallows, see?”
The sheriff gave a soft nod. “Go on.”
“I find myself in need of a husband,” she said. “And I’d like to buy one of these men from the gallows to help me bring in a crop this year.” She had done what she could last year on her own. And the year before. She’d barely had enough to eke out an existence, but everyone around her had fared about the same. The war had devastated their small town of Cooper, Kansas. But now she needed more than to scrape by. She needed a full crop. She needed to start living again. The war was over, and she didn’t want her father and brother coming home to empty fields, no money coming in, no way to support themselves.
“Now, Miss Pinehurst,” the sheriff started in that condescending tone she knew all too well. But she was prepared for it.
She tossed a small purse onto his desk. It jangled as it landed—the last of the money she’d saved. She only had enough for seeds and some supplies to get them through until the harvest. She didn’t turn loose of the money lightly. “You’ll find enough in there, Sheriff, to compensate the state for the release of the prisoner.”
The sheriff rubbed his scruffy beard and eyed her dubiously. “Miss Penny,” he started again, “why would you want to go and buy yourself a rascal for a husband?”
Penny shook her head. She didn’t really want to buy a rascal for a husband, but considering the visit she got from her closest neighbor the night before, purchasing a husband was the one thing she had to do. Jackson Alexander might be the best-looking man in the county, and he might have the most money in the county, but she knew he only wanted her for her land. He had come in all “You’re so beautiful,” and a bunch of other bunk that she knew wasn’t true. She hadn’t reached the ripe old age of twenty-five not knowing what she really looked like. And not to know what the children called her behind her back. Not So Pretty Penny.
That she could handle. She had lived her whole life with her face. What she couldn’t deal with was a lying man and empty fields.
“As I see it, Sheriff, a rascal husband might make for a very grateful man. Wouldn’t you be mighty thankful if someone saved you from hanging?”
He only had to think about it a moment before he nodded. “But—”
Penny shook her head. “I just need to know how this works. Do I get my choice?”
“I reckon,” the sheriff grumbled.
Penny suspected that he would rather not allow her this at all, but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. She needed the sheriff as an ally not an enemy.
“You just go on down and give them a look-see and let me know if you see one you think might be a good…match,” he finally finished.
Penelope gave a small nod, and with her heart pounding and shoulders back, she walked toward the iron-barred cells. She’d just reached the first one when the sheriff called, “You know they can turn you down, right?”
She did, but she was banking that the man she chose would be so grateful to be free that he wouldn’t care what she looked like. Well, she could only hope.
The first cell held a man as old as Methuselah. He had scraggly white hair surrounding a big bald patch smack in the center. His beard was gray and tangled, and he leered at her, revealing several missing teeth. Aside from the fact that he was old enough to be her father, he didn’t look strong enough to hold up a plow, much less guide it behind a horse.
A younger man sat next to him, a much younger man, and regardless of his sad eyes and soft-looking brown hair, she knew he was nearly half her age. What he was doing in jail was anybody’s guess, but she knew he would have to stay there. She needed a man not a boy.
The second of the jail’s two cells held a man who appeared so dirty and unkempt that Penny was unsure of his age. His long dark hair hung in his face. She couldn’t tell if it was naturally that dark or an accumulation of months of grime and dirt.
Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, she thought. It had seemed like a perfectly solid plan last night sitting at her dinner table, praying and sorting through her options. Coming to town and buying a husband from the gallows. She’d heard other women who had done it, and as far as she knew everything came out just fine. Though she really didn’t know. She had faith. The Lord had given her this idea, and she was going to see it through. She turned from the last prisoner and walked back toward the sheriff. “Are there any more?”
“Sorry.” The sheriff’s lips twitched as if battling a grin. “That’s all we got today.
You want to check back tomorrow and see if we have any new ones come in?”
He was making fun of her. But she had been made fun of her whole life, and frankly she didn’t care. She needed a husband and she needed one now. Today. This could not wait any longer. The crops needed to get in the ground so they would have time to grow and mature before harvest. That meant marrying somebody, dragging him out to the farm, and setting to work.
She turned on her heel and looked back toward the jail cells and the scraggly band of criminals there. She just had to trust in the Lord. Hadn’t He led her here? Hadn’t He provided these men? Though she thought she might need a little more than faith if she took home the older man or even the younger man, really. That left her only one choice.
“You’re sure there are no others?” A girl had to make certain.
“Nope.”
“What’s he in for?” jumped to the tip of her tongue, but she bit back the words. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The only solution she had was getting married. She couldn’t back out. Not now.
The dark-haired man stirred, as if he sensed her eyes upon him. He opened them and they looked as black as pitch. Black hair, black eyes. She had never seen anything like it. A small shudder ran through her.
; “H–him,” she stammered.
“Oh, Brannock over there?”
Penny gave a reassuring nod, though it was for her own benefit more than the sheriff’s. “Yes. Him. The one with the dark hair.”
The sheriff slipped around the desk and made his way to stand over next to the bars. “Well now, Brannock, it seems like it’s your lucky day. This here lady wants to marry you. Ain’t that something?”
Brannock didn’t move from his slouched-over spot in the corner of one bench. He simply let his gaze rove over her as if taking in every detail of her appearance. He neither flinched nor sneered, but she didn’t need a facial expression from him to know that she was homely.
Her hair was of no particular color at all. Sometimes it looked brown, sometimes it had a reddish tint to it. Sometimes it looked blond, but never did it look the same two days in a row. She had a nice curl to it she supposed, but that wasn’t saying an awful lot when it was compared to a nose that was too big for the rest of her face and a mouth that was a little too wide. Her jaw was squared off, and she had a small indent in the middle of her chin. To top it all off, she had an unfortunate gap between her two front teeth. Even more unfortunate, she tended to be the tallest person in the room.
Once upon a time her father had told her she was striking and imposing, but those were just nice ways to say that she wasn’t very pretty, and she tended to put men off because of her stature. She understood. It was just the way the world was. For some reason God had seen fit to make her this way, and though she wouldn’t understand it in this life, she knew one day she would sit at His hand and could ask Him why He had given her this cross to bear.
“So whaddya say?” the sheriff asked. “I can’t make you, but if you want to marry her that can be arranged.”
“Today,” Penny said, reaffirming her urgency. That was ridiculous really. Of course it was urgent. Why else would she pick a man about to hang for unknown crimes if she wasn’t at least a bit on the desperate side?
The Lassoed by Marriage Romance Collection Page 30