Hannah pulled out of the drive and onto the dirt road leading to the county highway. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Wood sitting as straight as a board, his knuckles clenched as his fingers clung to the seat belt.
Gabby kept up the conversation, rattling on about the neighboring farms and doing what Hannah thought was a first-rate job of selling the Stanleyville area. Wood didn’t say a word.
When they reached town, Hannah parked the truck in front of the video store. Again Gabby had to help Wood with the seat belt, this time to unfasten it.
“You can take him to Carl’s,” Hannah told Gabby when all three were standing on the sidewalk. “I need to see Ed at the co-op. I’ll meet you back here in say—” she paused to glance at her watch “—twenty minutes?”
“We should meet at the drugstore,” Gabby suggested. “Wood needs some personal care items.”
Wood stood silent, staring wide-eyed at the shops lining the main street. It made Hannah wonder how small the town was where he had spent most of his life. Gabby pushed her arm through Wood’s, waved at Hannah, then led him up the street.
Hannah took care of her business at the co-op, then headed toward the drugstore which was on the opposite side of the street. As she passed the Cut and Curl, she saw Marlis gesturing frantically for her to come inside.
“We’ve all been dying of curiosity,” Marlis said when she entered the shop, “we” being the other beautician and her customer, who both stared wide-eyed at Hannah.
“About what?” Hannah asked cautiously.
“That guy that’s with Gabby. That’s not her boyfriend, is it?”
“No, he’s not.” Hannah would have liked to walk out without saying another word, but she knew that the less she said, the more that would be misconstrued. “He’s here to apply for a job.”
“A job where?” Marlis wanted to know.
“At the farm.”
Disbelief could be seen on the faces of all three women. It was Marlis who voiced their surprise. “You’re hiring someone to work for you?”
“I might be. I’m not sure.” Hannah was deliberately vague.
“We heard Gabby’s helping him pick out clothes at Carl’s,” the other beautician commented, adding another permanent roller to the collection that already projected like porcupine quills on her customer’s head.
Amazed at how fast the town grapevine worked, Hannah explained, “He lost his luggage on his way here.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Nebraska.”
“And he’s single?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, good. We can use all the eligible men we can find,” Marlis said with a smug grin.
“I haven’t hired him yet,” Hannah reminded her.
Marlis gave her a coy look. “Come on, Hannah. You wouldn’t be buying the guy clothes if you didn’t intend to hire him.”
She would have explained how Gabby shrunk his only pair of pants, but really didn’t want to say any more about Wood Dumler. She knew his appearance in town would ignite a bonfire of curiosity the way it was.
“Does Red know you’re gonna hire a good-lookin’ guy like that?” asked Alice Zirbes, the customer who was having her hair permed.
“Red and I are friends, nothing more,” Hannah stated for what seemed to be the millionth time. Why did everyone in Stanleyville insist on pairing her with the sheriff?
“Still, he ain’t gonna like it,” Marlis said. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Hannah, but Red’s got a thing for you and he’s got it bad.”
“That doesn’t mean whom I hire is any of his business,” she snapped a bit impatiently.
“So you are going to hire this guy then?”
Hannah grew more frustrated by the minute. “He’s helping out until Barry returns.”
“We heard about Caroline going into the hospitaL They tried to stop the labor but last we heard she was dilated to seven.”
“That baby’s gonna come whether they want it to or not,” Alice predicted.
“Rumor is Barry’s looking at the Barton place,” Marlis remarked.
“They’re thinking about buying Herb’s dairy farm?” Hannah felt a bit hurt that Marlis knew about it before she did. Only yesterday Barry had mentioned he was thinking about looking for a place, and now it seemed as if everyone in town knew he wanted to make an offer on Herb’s place.
Hannah wished she had never stopped in at the Cut and Curl. All it had done was chum up her insides—as if Wood Dumler’s appearance hadn’t already done enough it.
By the time she walked through the front door of Kohler Drug, she was in need of antacids. She spotted Gabby at the checkout counter.
“Where’s Wood?” Hannah asked, adding a roll of antacids to her aunt’s purchases.
“He’s outside on the bus bench. Didn’t you see him?”
Hannah walked over to the plate glass window and glanced outside. The bench was empty. “He’s not there.”
A frown creased Gabby’s forehead. She picked up the bag and hurried outside, looking up and down the street before saying, “Maybe he stopped into the café for something cold to drink.”
“Does he have any money?”
“I gave him some.”
Hannah’s stomach lunged. “How much?” she asked uneasily.
“Just a twenty dollar bill.”
“Well, he couldn’t get far on that.” Until now, Hannah hadn’t considered the prospect that Wood could take her aunt into the bank and have her withdraw a huge sum of money. She sighed at the direction her thoughts had taken. Was she forever going to be suspicious of the man?
“Let’s go look at Sally’s.” Gabby started toward the café with the green-and-white-striped awnings. Wood, however, was not in Sally’s, or the Main Street Eatery or Beek’s Pizza Palace.
“Should we check the bars?” Hannah asked with a lift of one eyebrow.
“I suppose we’ll have to,” Gabby reluctantly agreed.
Within ten minutes, every establishment including the bars in the business section of town had been visited, yet there was no trace of Wood anywhere. Hannah was about to give up when she spotted a tall man wearing a Stetson coming out of the library.
“Look.” She pointed toward the north end of town. “That’s not him, is it?”
Gabby squinted. “Yup, it is. He’s wearing the hat I bought him.”
They started toward the library, Gabby going on about how relieved she was they had found him. All Hannah could think about was how that Stetson had changed his appearance.
“Why did you buy him a hat? I gave him a cap,” she said irritably.
“He wanted to pay for it himself, but I felt I owed it to him after shrinking his clothes like that.” She lowered her voice. “He doesn’t look like the same man, does he? Isn’t it amazing what new clothes can do for a person?”
Yes, it was, Hannah couldn’t help but notice as they approached Wood. No one would laugh at him now. He looked good. Damned good, Hannah thought, as something tightened in her stomach in response to his appearance. There was nothing sexier on a man than form-hugging. jeans and a Western-style shirt. He was, as Marlis would say, “buff.”
Annoyed that her body reacted physically to his, she took a flippant attitude. “Looking for some books to read in your spare time, Wood?”
He showed no reaction to her comment, but simply tipped his hat at both of them.
“I’m glad you stopped here, Wood,” Gabby stated cheerfully. “Now I can go inside and say hello to Vivian and Sue.” She placed a hand on Hannah’s arm. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Hannah wanted to scream yes, she did mind—that she didn’t want to be left alone with Wood on Main Street—but Gabby didn’t wait for an answer. She disappeared into the library leaving Hannah and Wood staring at each other on the sidewalk out front.
To Hannah’s relief, the brim of Wood’s Stetson shaded his eyes. She didn’t want those eyes probing hers.
“Here. Let me carry t
hose for you,” he said, relieving her of her packages.
Hannah didn’t bother to protest. It was too hot to argue.
“Maybe you want to go inside? It’s cooler in there,” he suggested.
Hannah already felt as if they were being watched. If she went in the library, she knew the scrutiny would intensify. Vivian and Sue were as bad as Marlis when it came to curiosity. All they needed was to see Wood fussing over her and they’d jump to all the wrong conclusions.
“I’d rather wait out here.” She stepped around the corner to where the building cast a long shadow on the sidewalk and where they’d be less likely to run into anyone she knew.
“If we cross the street we can sit.” He nodded toward the park on the opposite corner. “Or perhaps you don’t want to be seen with me?”
“Don’t be silly.” As if to disprove his point, she crossed the street and sat down on a park bench.
Wood joined her, his thigh rubbing against hers as he sat down beside her. Silence stretched between them, becoming more awkward by the moment. Finally, he said, “Your boyfriend’s watching us.”
Hannah glanced across the park and saw Red Murphy in his squad car, watching the two of them. “Red is not my boyfriend,” she repeated for the second time that day.
“Gabby says he’d like to be.”
“Gabby should talk less about my private life.”
“Then he is a part of your private life?”
“No—not that it’s any of your business.” She dabbed at the perspiration on her brow with the back of her hand.
“Forgive my inquiry,” Wood said contritely.
Another awkward silence stretched between them. Hannah was acutely aware of the man beside her, as well as the one sitting in the sheriff’s car around the corner.
Finally Wood said, “He must not have anything better to do. He’s still sitting there.”
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with us.” Hannah shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.
“Looks to me like he wants to keep an eye on you.”
“I told you. He’s not there because of me.”
“Then I must be the one he’s watching.”
Guilt had Hannah fidgeting. It was true she had told Red that she wasn’t exactly thrilled with Gabby’s choice of employees, but she had respected her aunt’s wishes and not asked him to investigate Wood.
“Jeremy told me had you not tied me to the bed you would have called the sheriff to come get me.”
“A woman can’t be too careful nowadays,” she said coolly. “You’re just a stranger who put an ad in the newspaper.”
He sighed. “I haven’t run off with your silver yet.”
Hannah’s eyes met his and she felt mesmerized. All of her life she had relied on her intuition. Today it was telling her that this was a man she could trust. The problem was, she had spent a lifetime learning to distrust men.
“I haven’t hidden my silver, have I?” she countered coyly.
Sparks of awareness ignited the hot summer air. “You don’t need to hide anything from me,” he said in a voice that was husky and deep, the way it had been when he had kissed her.
Oh yes she did, Hanna realized. She needed to hide her heart. For this was one man who had the power to find it.
“HAVEN’T YOU EVER WORKED on a farm with chickens before?” Jeremy asked as he led Wood into the church, the building where the chickens lived.
Wood shook his head. “You’ll have to show me what needs to be done.”
Jeremy carried an empty three-pound coffee can. “This stuff is oyster shells,” he explained, putting a scoop of the feed into a narrow trough. “It makes the eggs harder.” He set the coffee can down and picked up two gallon milk containers. “Now we get them water.” He handed one of the jugs to Wood and led him outside to the spigot.
As they poured the fresh water into the drinking troughs. Jeremy said, “So when Gabby wrote to you, did she tell you about me?” Jeremy asked.
Wood had no idea what the answer to that question was. It had been several days, and miraculously, Alfred Dumler hadn’t shown up. What was even more extraordinary was that Wood had been able to continue the charade. He wondered how much longer he would be successful at pretending to be another man.
“Why don’t you just come right out and ask me what it is you want to ask me?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Okay. Do you like kids?”
“Sure.”
“Then you don’t mind that Mom has me?”
“Why would I?”
Again he shrugged. “Not all guys like kids. My dad didn’t. That’s why he left us.”
It was said so unemotionally that Wood wasn’t sure if Jeremy was putting on a false show of bravado or if he really didn’t care about his father.
“When was the last time you saw your dad?”
“I’ve never seen him.”
Wood felt a rush of sympathy for the boy. Having lost his own father when he was fourteen, he knew what it was like to grow up without a dad. To this day there were times when he still felt empty at the thought of him. Although Jeremy behaved as if it didn’t matter to him that his father was gone, Wood was almost certain it did.
“Do you play baseball?” Jeremy asked.
“I can.”
“What about basketball?”
“No,” Wood answered, not revealing that he had no idea what it was. “Sometime you’ll have to show me how to play the game.”
“You really want to?”
“Sure.”
“Great!” As they walked past the bunkhouse, Jeremy eyed it wistfully. “I wish I could sleep out here, too, but Mom won’t let me.”
She probably doesn’t trust me, Wood thought. Aloud he said, “You’re closer to the kitchen if you get hungry.”
“I’m glad Gabby and you did that ad in the newspaper thing.”
Wood smiled. It was nice to know this young man liked him even if his mother didn’t. “Thanks, Jeremy.”
“Have you ever been married, Wood?”
“Once.”
“Was it like being in prison?”
“No. Why would you ask that?”
“Cuz that’s what Mom calls it.”
Wood wondered what kind of relationship Hannah had had with Jeremy’s father that she would describe their marriage as a prison.
“Then how come you’re not married now?” Jeremy continued to question him.
“My wife didn’t like living in what she called the wilderness. She liked living in the big cities out East.”
“At least that won’t be a problem with Mom, will it.” He gave Wood a knowing grin.
Wood frowned. What was the kid talking about?
“You know, I think Mom’s beginning to like you. I heard her tell Gabby that you have possibility. Maybe she’s going to like this whole mail-order groom idea.”
Mail-order groom?
The words echoed like thunder. What was Jeremy talking about?
Fragments of conversations with Gabby Davis replayed in Wood’s memory. “Hannah needs a man” not “Hannah needs a hired hand.” “You’re going to be perfect for each other” not “You’re going to work well together.”
Wood could feel moisture beading on his brow. Could it be that this Alfred Dumler hadn’t come looking for work, but to marry Hannah Davis?
“Jeremy, you said you know the true reason why I’m here.”
The boy nodded.
“Would you tell me?”
He gave Wood a puzzled look, then said, “You’re going to marry my Mom. Well, you will if you can convince her this mail-order groom thing isn’t a bad idea.”
Chapter Eight
Marry his mother.
Gabby had placed an ad for a man—not to be hired help, but to marry Hannah. Alfred Dumler was a mail-order groom. And Wood was pretending to be Alfred Dumler—which meant Gabby expected him to marry her niece.
He shook his head and wondered if all folks in the twentieth century had such crazy notion
s. He had heard of mail-order brides, but women advertising for men? He shuddered. He supposed it went along with women not wanting men to protect them. What had happened in the last hundred and twenty-two years? Could it be there was a shortage of men?
Certainly Hannah didn’t lack suitors. Wood would bet money that the sheriff would fill that position in a minute given the opportunity. So why had Gabby done such a thing? And without Hannah’s knowledge?
“Wood?” Jeremy tugged on his sleeve, interrupting his musings. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What was that?”
“Do you want to help me collect eggs tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Good.” Jeremy went on to explain that the chickens were his business, his college money. He even showed Wood the list of his customers and the prices he charged. It was a needed distraction for Wood, who now found himself faced with not only being stuck in the wrong century but expected to enter an arranged marriage.
From Jeremy, Wood received a lesson in economics as he discovered inflation had made the little bit of money he owned nearly worthless. Why, Jeremy possessed greater wealth than he did.
“Can I ask you one more question?” Jeremy asked as he stood in the entrance to the chicken coop, finished with his chores.
“Okay, one more,” Wood agreed, expecting it would be on the topic of the mail-order groom. It wasn’t.
“Do you have any kids?”
“No.”
“That’s good. People who get divorced shouldn’t have kids.”
Wood detected a glimmer of sadness in the boy’s eyes. Despite his stoic attitude, he was still a boy without a father. Wood’s voice softened as he asked, “Do you miss your father, Jeremy?”
“No. I don’t need him. I can take care of myself.”
It was said with the same toughness Wood often heard in Hannah’s voice. Like mother, like son, Wood thought, causing him to wonder if Jeremy’s father could be the reason that Hannah didn’t want men around. Or perhaps it was a twentieth-century thing. It was possible that women of 1998 disliked men. Possible, but scientifically unlikely. It was, however, a frightening thought.
“Jeremy, you need to finish your homework.”
Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) Page 12