Annie: A Bride For The Farmhand - A Clean Historical Western Romance (Stewart House Brides Book 3)

by Charity Phillips

Her lips still tingled as she changed for bed and slipped beneath the covers. She was exhausted, in part from a long day of toiling around the house with Adam, and in part from the ups and downs that seemed inherent to residing under the same roof as Caleb. She closed her eyes, anxious to escape the emotions that roiled within her, and after so many nights of inadequate sleep, she drifted off quickly.

  In her dreams, once again, the man held a knife to her, and though it hurt immensely, she fought hard against the panic that welled inside. She had to keep her wits about her if there was to be any hope of soothing the angry man. She kept her hands at her sides, speaking in soothing tones, reassuring the man he would be alright. The man didn’t budge; not until the soldier sent him sprawling, out cold. The moment the hand and knife fell away, she spun around, but it was not the man who had wielded the knife lying on the bed in front of her; it was the soldier who had saved her. He lay broken and bloodied on the bed, begging her, “Help me. Save me, Mary. I saved you, didn’t I? How can you stand by and let me die?” She tried, and she tried, staunching the flow of one wound only for another to appear. She cried out in sorrow, in frustration; in terror that the soldier’s blood would forever be on her hands.

  “Tessa!” the soldier called to her as she worked to cover his wounds, but that wasn’t her name. Why was he calling her that?

  “Tessa, please wake up,” he called again, his eyes pleading.

  And then there was nothing but darkness. Darkness, and warm, strong arms surrounding her. Her breath came rapidly but as those arms continued to hold her, it slowed.

  “It was just a bad dream, Tessa,” he told her as he had the time before, his hands beginning to rub in slow circles across her back. Her breathing resumed its normal cadence and she melted against him. She was safe, and far away from the brutality of war. So safe. But then he started to pull away.

  “Caleb…would you…” she began without thinking.

  “What is it, Tessa?” He stilled, rubbing her back once more.

  “Would you stay with me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  If his hands hadn’t stopped moving, she’d wonder if he’d heard her at all. And then he was silent for so long, she wondered if he’d fallen asleep sitting up. But then he nodded against her and lowered her down to the mattress, keeping his arms around her.

  Feeling his warmth and the strong wall of his body behind her, she closed her eyes. More content than she could ever remember, she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Caleb awoke to see the sky only just beginning to lighten through the window and he knew instantly that he’d made a mistake. He wasn’t alone, nor was he sleeping on the pile of blankets he’d slept on the past several weeks. He was in his bedroom, and Tessa was lying there cradled in his arms, blissfully asleep. He’d only meant to lay there for a minute or two, until she’d fallen back to sleep, but it’d felt so nice, he must have fallen asleep, too.

  He needed to get out of there; he needed to put distance between them. Because right then, waking up to her was feeling just as right as it had felt to fall asleep next to her. As carefully as he could, he slipped his arm out from underneath her and slid off the bed. But he couldn’t resist looking down at her, seeing her features relaxed in sleep, knowing she was sleeping peacefully now because she’d sought comfort in his arms.

  And he realized right then, it was too late. All the effort he’d put into keeping his distance, to staying detached from and disinterested in Tessa… he’d been fooling himself all this time. If he was being honest with himself, he’d known from the beginning he was doomed to fail.

  But there was more to Tessa than she was letting on, and that could spell serious trouble for him. He had no idea what secret she was keeping, whether it could wreak havoc on his life and Adam’s.

  He contemplated his own secrets; what Tessa would think of him if she knew? But thousands of miles away from home, it was unlikely that his secrets could impact her life.

  Could the same be said of hers? If she was on the run, then what would happen if her past ever caught up with her? What if someone came to take her away?

  He crept out of the room, peeking into the next room to make sure Adam was still sleeping soundly. He’d only just made it down the hall and sat down at the dining table with his coffee when a knock sounded at the door, an odd noise to hear so early in the morning. It seemed to echo through the house more than the sound ever did during the day. His heart thudded in his chest, so loud he wondered if it was still the knock at the door sounding in his ears.

  Had his worst fear just knocked at his door? It couldn’t be. He’d left absolutely no trail to his whereabouts.

  He listened, making sure Adam and Tessa weren’t stirring, and when he was met with silence, he stood, retrieving his Smith & Wesson before creeping quietly toward the door. What would he do if the person on the other side of the door had come to collect him? There was no way he would allow anyone to separate him from Adam—ever—and, he realized, he would not allow himself to be separated from Tessa either. But could he shoot a man in cold blood? End a life in order to maintain the life he’d created for his small family? In war, it had been different; he’d fought and killed for the good of his country. But for his own selfish desires?

  Still uncertain of his answer, he tucked the Smith & Wesson into the back of his pants and opened the door. What he found on the other side was not what he’d been expecting. The man was well-dressed, with an air of confidence and disdain surrounding him. But he was a slight man, no taller than Tessa and nearly as fragile-looking, and he held no weapon in his hand.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, forcing a calmness in his tone he didn’t feel.

  “My name is Clarence Wilkes. I’m here in search of a woman, sir.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Caleb joked, a tentative modicum of relief flitting through his veins at the man’s words. He was looking for a woman, not an escaped man.

  “Yes, well, one in particular, actually,” Clarence replied uncomfortably, a light blush creeping across his cheeks in response to the way his words seemed to have been misinterpreted.

  More relief filled him with every passing second, and so Caleb held his tongue rather than rattling the man further.

  “Her name is Mary Kenleigh, sir,” Clarence explained, “and I am searching for her on behalf of her fiancé—John Wendell.”

  Caleb froze, though he tried to appear unperturbed while every ounce of relief drained from his body. He knew that name, a name that had haunted him for years. But he couldn’t let Clarence see how he’d been affected by it. He tried to cover himself quickly. “I can’t say that I’ve heard of either of them, I’m afraid.”

  The man scrutinized Caleb’s expression, and Caleb was careful to hold the man’s gaze unwaveringly. Clarence nodded a moment later, obviously satisfied with his findings. He then held up a small picture…a picture that looked strikingly similar to the woman sleeping in his bed. No, not similar…exactly like the woman in his bed.

  Tessa was John Wendell’s fiancé? Her name wasn’t even Tessa. Was this some kind of sick game? Had John and Tessa…Mary…concocted this scheme together? Had they plotted to reel him in, make him fall for the woman and then pull the carpet out from under him? It was despicable enough that she’d do that to him…but to Adam? Did she have no idea how much his son had grown to care for her already? Or did she not care? He’d been certain about her affection for his son—had he been so wrong?

  Caleb was angry, ready to scream so loud he’d blow the roof off the house, but the man’s next words trapped his rage in his throat.

  “If you happen to see her, I’d appreciate it if you would contact me. Her fiancé would like his…property returned to him as soon as possible.”

  If Tessa had been a knowing participant in the scheme, why would there be someone looking for her?

  And the way the man had referred to her as ‘his property’ reverberated in his mind and sent a chill down his spine. Was
it possible she’d been betrothed to John Wendell against her will? Had she fled her home in order to escape the wretched fiend? If so, Caleb was beginning to understand what secret she’d been hiding. And why.

  And though he was angry that she’d deceived him, he couldn’t find it within himself to blame her. How could he? Had he not gone to equal lengths to escape the man and the destruction he’d wreaked on his life? Nevertheless, she’d practically brought the very man who had destroyed him to his doorstep. The only way to ensure his safety and Adam’s was to send her back. Once John Wendell had his fiancée returned to him, he would have no reason to continue poking around the west.

  Clarence handed him a card with a New England address written on it as Caleb opened his mouth to speak…but no words came out; he couldn’t force them out. God help him, he couldn’t hand Tessa over to that evil man.

  “Thank you,” he said instead. “I will be in touch should I happen to see her.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Clarence eyed him once more, and Caleb forced a calm, unassuming demeanor. These last few seconds was all he had left to convince the man he would not find what he was looking for there.

  “Father?” Adam’s sleepy voice called to him from a few yards back.

  “Good morning, son. I’ll join you in the dining room in a moment,” Caleb replied over his shoulder. “As you can see, Mr. Wilkes, I have a son to tend to. If there’s nothing else I can do for you…” He was amazed at the nonchalance in his own tone. If he managed to pull this off, he’d have to congratulate himself on his performance later.

  “No, nothing further. Thank you for your time. Good day, sir.”

  “Good day to you as well,” he replied and then stepped back and closed the door slowly, watching as Clarence turned away and made his way back to his carriage. He thought back over the conversation and considered the man’s body language. Whether Caleb had given a good performance or Clarence was too daft to recognize the truth, he didn’t know. Either way, he was relatively certain the man had no idea John Wendell’s fiancée slept within that very house.

  He listened as the man rode away and breathed a sigh of relief when he was no longer within earshot. It was over. Adam was safe. He was safe. But what was he to do about Tessa…Mary?

  Before he could even contemplate it, she appeared from the hallway. Had she been awake through the conversation? Had she heard the entire exchange?

  She strode over to him, her spine straight and her head high. If it weren’t for the way she nibbled at her bottom lip, he would have no clue she was ill at ease. He would rather have had more time to consider how to proceed from here, but it seemed that was not an option.

  “Caleb,” she began as she came to a halt in front of him. “I want to apologize for last night…for…I should never have…” she fumbled with her words.

  She had no idea what had just transpired at his front door. Her uneasiness was the result of her asking him to stay with her last night. For the second time in as many minutes, he breathed a sigh of relief. He would have to confront her on the subject, but for now, he was free to consider his next step.

  “I assure you, it’s quite alright…Tessa. Don’t let it concern you.” Without another word, he strode to the kitchen to replace his now-cold coffee, forcing at least a modicum of his concentration onto the task in front of him. Already, the morning had been fraught with far too many revelations. First, it had hit him how very strongly he cared for Tessa, and then he discovered she wasn’t Tessa, that she’d lied to him about everything…her name…her reason for seeking a husband. It was likely she’d never been a librarian, and he was already quite certain her account of her family had been anything but truthful.

  So why didn’t he hand her over to Clarence Wilkes, or at the very least, send her away?

  Because the things he knew about her were far more important than her name or her occupation. He knew she was kind and compassionate, strong and yet fragile, full of life, but still haunted. He knew he cared for her more than any woman he’d ever known, and that she would make a better mother to Adam than the boy’s own mother ever would have.

  He needed to think, and he couldn’t do that with her so near…so beautiful…

  “Please see to Adam’s breakfast. I’ll be going out,” he offered brusquely as he strode from the room.

  Chapter 9

  Mary had no idea what to make of Caleb’s sudden abruptness, not that it was entirely unfamiliar. But he’d seemed uneasy from the moment she’d approached him in the hall, and that uneasiness had grown exponentially by the second until it was a palpable force between them. By the time he’d made his hasty retreat from the room, she wasn’t sure if she should breathe a sigh of relief or whimper in protest.

  She didn’t want this sham of a marriage; feeling Caleb’s arms around her the night before had taken away any doubt. She’d believed she could be content to live a loveless life, but it had been a lie, just like everything else she’d told herself and Caleb these past few weeks. She couldn’t be content, not when the man whose love she craved was there as a constant reminder of what she could not have. And yet, her only alternative was to leave them, to leave the little boy she’d come to love as well. She could not do that either.

  And so, she was left with no options, just as trapped as she’d been in her betrothal to John Wendell. At least with him, she’d known she would never want his love, even if the man was capable of such human emotion—which she seriously doubted.

  Adam’s jubilant voice broke through her silent crisis. “What are we going to do today, Miss Tessa?”

  “What would you like to do today, Adam?”

  The boy seemed to think long and hard, but before he could reply, a knock sounded at the door. It couldn’t be Caleb. Why on earth would Caleb be knocking on his own front door? A sizzle of apprehension ghosted over her skin, raising the tiny hairs at the back of her neck.

  “Adam, wait here,” she told him as she hurried out of the room and to the door. Perhaps it was an innocent caller, another wife in the area who’d spied Tessa and Adam and wanted to introduce herself. That was entirely plausible. But what if it wasn’t? She could ignore them and hope they would go away.

  The knock sounded again.

  “Who is it, Miss Tessa?” Adam yelled from where he remained seated in the dining room. There was no way to pretend there was no one home now. Stealing her shoulders and breathing deep, she reached for the handle, ignoring the way her hand trembled.

  “Hello, Mary,” the man spoke with an evil leer as she opened the door.

  Oh no. He’s found me! She moved to slam the door closed, but he shoved it open, making her stumble back. He was in the house, closing the door before she could regain her balance.

  “I’m a married woman, Mr. Wendell. There is no point in you pursuing—”

  “I know full well what you’ve been up to.”

  “P-please just leave,” she whispered.

  “Of course,” he replied, far too agreeably. And then, she saw the Beaumont–Adams revolver in his hand as he raised it, settling his aim directly on her chest. “If you’ll just accompany me, I’d be happy to leave right now.”

  What could she do? Little Adam would come looking for her at any moment.

  “Put it down, John,” a husky, male voice spoke clearly from behind her. He must have come in through the rear entrance.

  She spun around to find Caleb standing just a few yards from her, holding a vicious-looking weapon in his hand, too, which was pointed directly at John.

  “I don’t think so, Caleb, but don’t worry, I won’t leave you to pine after her this time.”

  “Father?” Adam’s voice spoke from the dining room, but she could hear his small feet approaching quickly.

  She looked at the two men incredulously. How…how can they possibly know each other?

  And then it all happened so fast. The loud sounds reverberated in her ears. Adam cried out, and she screamed.

 
Caleb fell to the ground in front of her while at the same time, a loud thud sounded behind her as John sunk to the ground.

  She grabbed John’s weapon from where it fell, but then hurried to Caleb, converging on him at the same time as Adam. She looked over the boy quickly, but he was unharmed. Caleb, on the other hand, had blood seeping from a wound to his thigh.

  A quick glance back at John told her Caleb hadn’t been taking any chances; he’d aimed for John’s chest and hit his mark dead on. Ignoring the late man behind her, she sprung to action, tearing away Caleb’s pant leg until she could find the wound. A quick inspection told her the bullet had gone clean through. She wouldn’t have to dig around inside to find the bullet, thank goodness.

  Tearing a strip from her dress, she wrapped it around his leg, pulling it tight to staunch the flow. Adam stood nearby, tears silently falling down his cheeks.

  “It’s alright, Adam. Your father is going to be just fine. I just have to patch him up a little. Do you think you could help me?”

  “H-how?” the boy stuttered.

  “I need you to fold down the blankets on the bed and get me some extra pillows from your room. Do you think you could do that for me?” she spoke calmly, knowing it was the only way to reassure Adam.

  He nodded and backed away slowly, turning to do her bidding after a few steps.

  She looked down and Caleb’s eyes were open, though he was rubbing the back of his head. He must have hit it hard when he’d fallen.

  “Do you suppose you could walk if I help you?” she asked, wanting to get him away from there quickly before Adam returned.

  Caleb nodded and she stood, offering her hand to help him up, but he waved her away and stood on his own, hobbling toward the bedroom after checking to see that the man he’d shot was indeed dead. The body lying on the floor made a gruesome scene, but she couldn’t think about that now. She’d seen plenty of gruesome scenes before, and this one was no different—at least, that’s what she had to tell herself until she’d seen to Caleb’s leg.