Flint Hills Bride

by Cassandra Austin

  Jake gave a soft grunt, and Emily came fully awake. She was snuggled up so close to Jake she was almost on top of him! They were both fully clothed, thank goodness, but still, she was using his shoulder as a pillow. Her arm was around his chest, no doubt accounting for Jake’s audible protest when she dropped it. Her leg was—She drew it quickly away.

  The tickle came again, along with the realization that she was being watched. She turned slowly and looked up at three little children, each munching solemnly on a biscuit. They were standing so close, the crumbs were falling in her face.

  One little child gave her a masticated-biscuit grin.

  Her stomach rolled over. She closed her eyes, fighting down the nausea. She was aware of Jake moving beneath her, making her feel seasick. More crumbs fell in her face, and she knew she was losing the battle.

  She flung herself upward, suffering a wave of dizziness. Before she had fully righted herself, Jake was beside her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her only answer was a groan. She wrenched away from him and ran for the door. The cold air dispelled the. dizziness but stung her face and feet. She hardly noticed. She emptied her stomach on the bare ground just off the stone step.

  “Emily.” Her name was whispered in her ear. Jake was holding her upright, she realized, or she would have dropped to her knees.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She waited a moment to answer, wanting to be sure. “I think so,” she murmured finally.

  “Then come inside before you freeze.”

  He led her to the fireside and kicked the blanket aside so he could move a chair closer. When she was seated, he knelt in front of her, taking her feet into his hands, rubbing first one and then the other.

  “Are you sick, Emily?” he asked gently.

  “No,” she moaned, grateful that the children had fled. “It happens every morning.

  “But you haven’t even eaten.”

  “Don’t mention food! Please.” She let her head lull back against the chair. “I’ll be all right. Your feet are cold, too, Jake.”

  “Put your shoes on,” he said, moving to bring them to her. “In case…”

  “Yeah,” she said, fully aware of what he was thinking. She kept her eyes closed for another couple of minutes, not sure she wanted to bend over. Jake’s warm hands lifting her foot as he dabbed the heel with the ointment made her feel pampered.

  “How do you get these on?”

  She opened her eyes at the question. He had one stocking spread across his lap and was pushing the open end over her toes.

  She giggled, and he looked up to give her a heart-stopping grin. “You have to roll it,” she explained, reaching for the garment. With deft movements she scrunched the stocking in her hands until her thumbs were in the toe. She slipped her toe inside and pulled it smoothly over her knee.

  Only then did she realize the show she was providing. Jake, still kneeling on the floor was getting a close look at nearly the full length of her leg. She dropped the riding skirt back into place.

  A second passed. Jake shook his head, as if to clear it, and raised his eyes to hers. She glared at him. She could just guess what he was thinking. What all men were always thinking.

  Before she could say something scathing, he mumbled a short. “Sorry.”

  Why did she feel like forgiving him? It hadn’t been his fault, she reasoned. And he hadn’t taken any kind of advantage, merely looked. She felt herself softening. It must have shown on her face because Jake’s expression relaxed a little. She was close to smiling after all when he handed her the other stocking.

  She snatched it out of his hand. Did he think she would do it again? He continued to kneel in front of her, as if that were just what he expected. She cleared her throat loudly, bringing him out of his lust-filled trance.

  He rose to his feet, looking appropriately embarrassed. “I’ll…uh…go in the kitchen and get some brea—sorry. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Emily watched him hurry out of the room, and found herself wanting to giggle. She reflected on her reaction as she slipped on the other stocking and pulled on her shoes. Why didn’t Jake’s interest fill her with dread? Why wasn’t her stomach churning? He had asked her to marry him, and she had agreed. Sometime soon, he would have the right to take what she had so foolishly given Anson.

  And she was no innocent girl. She already knew that the warmth in her stomach, the tingling on her skin—those very things that she felt now as she remembered Jake watching her bare leg—were tricks to make a woman willing to participate in a most unsatisfying and even humiliating act.

  So why did she want to giggle at Jake?

  She leaned back and closed her eyes, swallowing the sound before it escaped her lips. Because she was going crazy, she guessed. Maybe hysteria was another of the joys of increasing. At least her morning sickness had passed in record time.

  Less than an hour later, Emily found herself on her way back to Council Grove. The fourteen-year-old Rodney was riding with them. Mr. Kraus had been hesitant to leave all the chores to his wife and children and had decided instead to send the boy in to report the theft.

  Jake, she had learned, had paid the family for their hospitality, she kept a few coins and left the last of Christian’s money tucked under the bedding she had folded and stacked near the hearth.

  Rodney, away from the competition of so many siblings, found an easy audience in Jake and talked nearly the entire ride to town. She heard about all the other children and every humorous, and not so humorous, stunt any of them had ever pulled. She also learned that Rodney still attended school, though he missed a lot if his father needed him, and he wanted to be a lawman when he grew up.

  Emily was glad to be excluded from most of the conversation. She had begun to worry about their greeting once they arrived in Council Grove. She had told the sheriff that Anson wasn’t really a fugitive, merely a friend of hers. Jake wasn’t doing his duty as a deputy, merely acting the jealous husband. Perhaps they could get in and out of town without the sheriff learning she wasn’t really Jake’s wife. Yet.

  Even that hope shattered a few miles short of Council Grove. Jake, having exhausted Rodney’s entire store of tales, dropped back to ride next to her. “I’ll take Rodney with me to talk to the sheriff, then I’ll find a preacher.”

  Her mind was blank for a moment. She wasn’t positive, but she thought it was Tuesday. Hadn’t they left Americus on Sunday? “Preacher?”

  “To marry us,” he clarified.

  Emily felt the blood drain from her face. “Marry us? Here?”

  He answered quietly, “If I take you home first, your mother will want to turn the wedding into a big affair. That could take months to arrange.” He gave a significant glance toward her middle.

  Of course he was right. She didn’t want a big wedding, and she certainly couldn’t afford to wait months. Still, she wished things were different.

  Jake was watching her, looking slightly worried. Was he afraid she would argue with him? Or afraid she wouldn’t? Lord, if things were different, as she had wished, he wouldn’t be marrying her at all.

  He had told her last night that he loved her, but he was so nice, of course he would say that. She vowed right then to do her best to make him happy. She was in love with him, and maybe, if she loved him enough, she could make his love true as well.

  She felt a smile tug her lips. “Shall we ask the sheriff to be a witness?”

  Jake shook his head, laughing. “He already thinks we’re married, remember? On second thought, maybe you should come with me to his office. He might lock me up if he thinks I’ve abandoned you again.”

  “I suppose I should do a little explaining.”

  His smile became a wide grin. “I think I’d like to see that.”

  She tried to scowl at him, but in the face of his grin, it was impossible. “Couldn’t we just tell him that in light of our earlier…er…problems, we want to renew our vows?”

  Emily expec
ted a hasty refusal Instead he agreed, making her instantly guilty. Her story to the sheriff had made Jake look like both a poor husband and an irresponsible lawman. And he was going to let her stick to it.

  When they finally reached town and turned down the street toward the sheriff’s office, Emily’s stomach was in knots. She was usually hungry by this late in the morning, and she supposed that could be part of it. But mostly she dreaded facing the huge sheriff again.

  She recognized a few men on the street as members of yesterday’s posse. Their curious stares did nothing to relieve the tension. In fact, she noticed more than a few of them moving down the street parallel to them.

  “We’re drawing a crowd,” Jake commented cheerfully.

  “Shall we invite them all to the wedding?” Her voice sounded a little more sour than she had intended. His response was still a laugh.

  In front of the office, Jake swung down and came to help Emily dismount. Rodney had stepped up to the door only to have the sheriff barge through it, nearly knocking the boy off his feet.

  “Well, now,” said the sheriff, hitching up his pants. “I didn’t expect to see the two of you around here again.”

  “At least we’re together,” Jake offered.

  “Mr. Sheriff,” Rodney began.

  “Did you find the old boyfriend?” Emily was glad his glare was directed at Jake and not her.

  “No, sir,” Jake answered.

  Emily wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. But she needed to straighten things out for Jake. “He really is a—”

  “Mr. Sheriff,” Rodney tried again.

  “Whatcha doin’ back here, then?”

  Emily, Jake and Rodney each tried to answer. It was Rodney’s voice that carried above the rest. “My pa was robbed!”

  A gasp went up from the gathering crowd.

  “Maybe you three should step into my office,” the sheriff said, waving the others away.

  Inside, the sheriff lined up the chairs and seated his guests then leaned against his desk to tower over them. Jake motioned Rodney to speak first.

  “Pa—that’s Waller Kraus—he said to tell you that a young blond fella spent the night at our house night before last and stole fourteen dollars and twenty-seven cents from a tin on our fireplace. I was to describe him if ya wanted.”

  The sheriff raised an eyebrow toward Jake.

  “It was Anson Berkeley. The boy I was following.”

  The eyebrow shifted in Emily’s direction.

  She took a deep breath. “He really is a fugitive. I lied to get you to help me catch up with Jake.”

  Jake cut in quickly, “I did leave without telling her what I planned.”

  “But only because he knew I’d follow.”

  The sheriff waved his hand to end the argument He directed his gaze at Emily. “Are you at least his wife?”

  She and Jake answered at once. “No.” “Yes.”

  The sheriff grunted. “Do you two ever agree on anything? Which is it?” Before they could both speak again, he pointed at Emily. “You first.”

  “We aren’t married. I wanted—”

  Jake interrupted. “But we’re going to be.”

  “Did I ask you to talk?” growled the sheriff.

  Rodney’s young voice filled the room. “What about the man what stole Pa’s money?”

  The sheriff sighed. “All right. You—” his finger pointed at Jake “—tell me the whole story, I mean about the robbery, and you two be quiet.”

  Emily listened while Jake related what they had learned from each of the farms they had visited the day before. She produced the picture from her reticule at an appropriate time. The sheriff’s glare silenced any words she might have added.

  Finally, with both the sheriff and Rodney satisfied, they rose to leave. “You run over to the café and get some grub, boy,” the sheriff told Rodney. “Tell ’em I sent ya. I’ll round up one of my deputies to ride home with you. He’ll visit with your pa and your neighbors, and we’ll see what we can turn up.

  “Can’t make no promises, though. Most likely, someone’ll catch him in the act and put a bullet in him.” The last was obviously intended to reassure Rodney that justice would eventually be served.

  “What about you two?” asked the sheriff, tossing a huge arm over Jake’s shoulder and another over Emily’s. “I’m not sure I should let you run around loose. You’ve proved to be a mite disruptive.”

  “We’re going to get married,” Jake said without hesitation.

  The sheriff laughed. “Is that a fact? I think I’ll tag along to make sure.”

  He withdrew his arms to open the door. Emily flexed her shoulders, hearing a satisfying pop, and followed Jake outside. And stopped in her tracks.

  A crowd of people waited for them. They were a quiet bunch, but she detected a murmur of disappointment at seeing them emerge. Were they hoping at least one of them had been arrested?

  She felt the heavy arm go around her shoulders again and discovered the sheriff had stepped between her and Jake.

  “Folks,” the sheriff boomed. “These two young people are gonna get married.”

  “Ain’t they already married?” asked one observer amid the murmurs of the rest.

  “Appears not. Somebody get a parson.”

  “Which one?”

  The sheriff turned to Emily. “Do you prefer Catholic or Protestant? We ain’t got a real big choice.”

  “Protestant,” she said past the lump in her throat. She truly wished she had held to her earlier lie. She would much rather get married quietly, without the help of this overbearing sheriff. She tried to look past him to see Jake’s reaction, but the man was too big.

  “Four o’clock,” boomed the sheriff. “Give the ladies time to whip up the usual.”

  “The usual?” Emily’s words were lost as she found herself thrust into Jake’s arms. She clung there trying to sort out what she had missed. The crowd gave a hearty cheer and dispersed in several directions. Their horses were led away by one stranger, her bag and Jake’s saddlebags carried off by another.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “They’re making the arrangements,” Jake whispered.

  “You two go get some dinner. The preacher’ll find you to discuss any details. You need a dress or a Bible to carry or anything like that?”

  She stared at the sheriff. It was Jake who answered. “I think we can find everything she needs. Let me feed her before she faints.”

  “Faints?”

  “She had to…skip breakfast.”

  The sheriff’s wide face broadened into a lascivious grin. “Did she now?” He slapped Jake on the back so hard they both nearly fell over. “That’s a boy.” He chortled then grew serious. “You marry her, ya hear? Don’t try to duck out on her again. I’ll tell the liveryman not to let you have your horse, or any other, if I have to.”

  “That won’t be necessary, sir,” Jake said.

  To Emily’s immense relief, he led her away. By the time they were outside the restaurant, she was feeling more her old self. “Is the whole town invited to our wedding?”

  “That’s what I understood.”

  “Will the sheriff bring a shotgun?”

  “Count on it.”

  “Oh, Jake.” She turned into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he whispered. “I’m marrying the woman I love. The details don’t really matter. Besides, I wouldn’t mind sharing the event with the whole world, or even a town full of strangers.”

  He took her arm and led her into the restaurant, helping her out of her coat and gloves. The waiter hurried to direct them to the table they had occupied the day before. Emily, her back to the huge fireplace, watched Jake’s face as the waiter hurried away.

  The humor of the situation finally hit her. “It looks like you’re really stuck with me, Jake. The sheriff’ll never let you escape.”

  “Do I look like I want to cut and run?” He was smiling, too, his green eyes sparkling. “
I’ve imagined you as my wife since I was eighteen.”

  Emily laughed, trying to remember what she had been like at thirteen. “And before that, darling?” she asked, trying to sound flirtatious and overdoing it.

  “Before that,” Jake said, leaning toward her and taking her hand. “I thought you would have made a wonderful little brother.”

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  The waiter arrived in time to see the couple holding hands and smiling at each other across the table. He let out a heavy sigh of contentment as he put plates of steaming pot roast and vegetables in front of them.

  “It’s on the house,” he said in a suspiciously choked voice before hurrying away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Emily soaked in a tub of hot water, the hotel had provided. When she and Jake had finished their meal, they had learned that Emily’s carpetbag had been moved into the room she had occupied for a short time the day before and Jake had been assigned the room across the hall. Jake, however, had been informed that baths were available in the back room of the barbershop, with a strong hint that he also visit the front room.

  Emily squeezed out the sponge and watched the water trickle into the tub. In just a few hours she was going to marry Jake Rawlins. Every time she thought about it she wanted to laugh hysterically. A month ago—a week ago!—she wouldn’t have believed it.

  Her baby would have a name, and a good name at that. And more important, it would have a daddy. Jake was incredibly handsome, kind, far kinder than she deserved, and she knew she loved him. He even acted as if he loved her, too, though she wasn’t sure she could believe it.

  The water was growing cold, and she reached for the towel, wrapping it around herself as she stepped from the tub. Someone had built a roaring fire before she had been shown to the room and it still sent out an abundance of heat.

  Emily applied a second of the four towels the maid had left to her hair as she took a seat before the fire. A moment later a soft tap sounded on the door.

  “Who is it?” she called.