The Rancher’s Devout Bride

by Maya Stirling

  Emma knew she could put an end to this by simply insisting she walk away. The music seemed to sweep around her, enveloping her. And Jake's gentle grasp drew her into his presence. Into his world.

  In that moment, she made her decision. While not leaning too close to him, she made it obvious that she had no intention of going anywhere. She saw him nodding imperceptibly, as if he knew she had accepted what he had offered.

  They danced slowly together. Emma felt as if something new had taken hold of her. Not just Jake's tender embrace, but a new certainty. They moved together in perfect harmony, slowly circling, surrounded in their private world by the other dancers, some of whom couldn't help glancing wth curiosity at her and Jake. But, right now, she didn't care. All her earlier concerns had vanished. It was enough just to be with him. And nothing else mattered.

  Just as the music was coming to a finish, Emma saw a familiar figure navigating his way through the crowd. She felt a sudden tightness in her chest and halted. Jake's brows knitted and he released her, turning to see what had drawn that reaction from her.

  As some of the dancers vacated the floor, Judd Foley ambled up to Jake and Emma. "Good evening, Jake. I thought I saw you dancing with this lovely young lady," Foley declared. "Miss Dunbar," Foley added, bowing his head slightly. Foley was dressed in a dark suit and light gray waistcoat. He looked neat and tidy. She thought the suit might have been more appropriate behind the counter of a bank.

  Emma saw Jake's shoulders rise, tension sweeping throughout his body. "Judd. I'm surprised to see you here," Jake countered.

  "Really? Why is that?" Foley asked.

  Jake shrugged. "I thought maybe what happened at the last social might have made you think twice about coming back for more."

  Emma frowned, wondering to what Jake could be referring. Jake turned to Emma. "Judd got into a little bit of trouble last month. Seemed like he didn't like something one of the Fox brothers said to him."

  Emma saw Foley's face flush red all the way to his hairline. "Just a misunderstanding," he blurted out unconvincingly. He moved quickly toward Emma and reached out a hand. "May I have the pleasure of the next dance?" he asked.

  Emma saw Jake's jaw tighten. His indignant gaze looked like it could drill a hole in Foley's skull. But the man ignored Jake, instead gazing expectantly at Emma.

  Jake curled a hand beneath Emma's elbow and started to lead her away from Foley. "I think Emma wants to sit down," Jake declared.

  For some reason, maybe as a result of the suddenness of the breaking of the mood she'd felt while dancing with him, Jake's presumptuous, even possessive attitude sparked an instant, visceral reaction in Emma. Why did he assume he could just do her thinking for her? The last thing she wanted to do was be impolite to Foley. Didn't she have a duty to be civil, especially since she was new in town, and everyone was watching her every move?

  She peered at Jake as she tugged her arm away from him. Jake's eyes narrowed. Emma smiled at Foley. "I'd be delighted to dance with you, Mr Foley."

  As she moved past Jake, Emma met his steely gaze. He looked incredulously at her. The music started up as Emma reached out, allowing Foley to take hold of one hand and rest his other on her back.

  Foley led Emma out into the middle of the floor and soon they were surrounded by a dense crowd of fellow dancers. As she and Foley turned, Emma glanced across at Jake, expecting to see him standing by the side watching her. Instead, she saw the back of his head bobbing through the crowd as he made his way toward the door at the far end of the hall.

  Something heavy settled in her middle as she twisted her head, watching Jake winding his way through the crowd, moving quickly past people in his eagerness to leave the hall.

  "Looks like Jake has decided the evening's over," Foley announced sounding far too triumphant for Emma's liking.

  She felt Foley's hand tighten around her fingers. Sensing the increased pressure at her back as he tried to draw her closer to him, she tensed her muscles, trying to maintain a modicum of decorum. She tried to communicate to Foley that she didn't appreciate what he was doing. But the man paid no heed to her hints. Instead, he leaned closer. "I believe you and I have a great deal to discuss, Miss Dunbar," he murmured into her ear.

  Emma could smell a mixture of cologne and a faint hint of alcohol. She leaned her head away from Foley and peered into his eyes. Those eyes which had transfixed her upon their first encounter now contained a hint of something presumptuous. "You believe so, Mr Foley?" she replied.

  He nodded. "To be honest Miss Dunbar, I'm fascinated by you," he stated. It seemed almost comical for him to say such thing, but she could see he was being serious.

  "You are?" she answered, slightly taken aback by how forward he could be. Perhaps this was his way of making an impression. In which case, he was most certainly succeeding. But not in the way he might be imagining, she told herself.

  "Indeed I am. I've heard many interesting opinions about you and your lovely girls," he said.

  Startled by that admission, she peered at him. Her suspicion that she'd been the subject of gossip had just been confirmed. "I'm pleased that everyone find me such a curiosity," she said acidly.

  As if enjoying confirmation that she had spirit enough to defend herself, Foley grinned appreciatively. "My own interest exceeds that of anyone else in town. I can assure you of that, Miss Dunbar."

  "Why is that, Mr Foley?" she asked.

  "Let's say, I'm guessing that you have plans to settle in this town," he replied. "Would I be right in assuming that, Miss Dunbar?"

  For a long moment, she was speechless. Had her conduct been so obvious that everyone was already speculating about her and the children? "My intentions are not yet settled, Mr Foley," she said defensively.

  He seemed unconvinced by her rebuttal. "I can't imagine a fine lady like yourself giving up the chance to settle in a beautiful town like Inspiration."

  "I only just arrived," she objected.

  He smiled and lifted his chin. "Time will tell, Miss Dunbar." Then he gazed at her in such a way that she felt heat race all the way up her entire face. "I think you'll find a great deal that appeals to you in Inspiration, Miss Dunbar." She was convinced he was talking about himself. If he hadn't have been so deadly serious, she was sure she would have laughed out loud.

  They continued to move together for a few moments, dancing to the music. Glancing toward the door, Emma saw no sign of Jake. Knowing she hadn't handled the situation at all well, feeling a sudden indignation, she tugged on Foley's hand, trying to release his grip on her. But Foley held on tight. "Perhaps you'd like to join me at my table," he suggested.

  Exasperation finally got the better of her. She wrenched her hands free of him and took a step back. "I have to go, Mr Foley." Her breathing had quickened as well as her heart. "Thank you for the dance."

  As Foley's features darkened, and as his mouth opened to reply, Emma spun on her heels and headed to the edge of the dance floor. With one brief glance toward the Buchanan's table, she was relieved to see Bethany and Clara being entertained by the caring attentions of two of the brothers and their wives. Knowing this was her only chance to repair the damage she'd done, she headed toward the door.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Emerging outside onto the boardwalk, Emma peered up and down the length of Main Street. Darkness had descended upon Inspiration. The lighting from inside some of the street buildings illuminated both sides of the boardwalk. A couple of riders were making their way slowly up the length of Main Street. She saw the carriage, still parked where Jake had left it earlier. He was still around. Somewhere, she told herself.

  She peered into the evening gloom. Then, a short distance along the boardwalk, to the north, she saw him. His shoulders were hunched, and he had his back to her. But she recognized his unmistakable tall figure and the familiar, easy manner of his slow strides. Grasping the lower fabric of her gown, she lifted it slightly off the boardwalk and started to make her way toward Jake. Her heart was pounding i
nexplicably. Thoughts were tumbling through her mind. She wondered what she was going to say to him. How she was going to explain her circumstances to him in a way he would even begin to understand.

  During the carriage ride into town she'd decided she would tell him all about the girls and the disaster in Billings and everything about the uncertainty she faced. Just the thought of doing that had made her withdraw into herself all evening. Fear had gripped her, and she had fought to hide it. She asked herself what she feared most of all. He might be so shocked at her revelations, that he'd ask her and the children to leave, she told herself. He might involve the local law. Or, worst of all, all the good feeling which had grown between them these past few days might evaporate.

  What really made her almost feel panic, though, was the prospect of having to leave Jake Buchanan behind. Forever. The possibility of walking away from the handsome rancher made her feel something new. Something she'd never have expected when she'd first seen him leaning against the wooden post on the staging station porch. In some inexplicable way, he'd found a way into her heart. In spite of every barrier she had constructed around herself, Jake's presence had become important to her.

  Her footsteps thundered on the wooden boardwalk. Hearing her advancing steps, Jake turned. Seeing her, his eyes widened. Encouragingly, he didn't just turn and ignore her. Her spirits lifted at that.

  Emma drew to a halt in front of Jake, her boots skidding slightly on the wood beneath her feet. He tilted his head and peered into her eyes. "You following me?" he asked. The corner of his mouth creased with the hint of a smile.

  Seeing him smile like that, anxiety eased out of her, and she sighed, trying to compose herself. She tugged at her skirts. "I saw you leave. Figured I'd join you for some fresh air." She knew it sounded unconvincing. But, she was just pleased he wasn't mad at her for encouraging Foley.

  Jake lifted his head and gazed up at the starry sky. "You've come to the right place for that. It's a pleasant evening." He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. "I guess Judd Foley isn't much of a dancer, after all. Is he?"

  She smiled and laughed quietly. "No. He's got two left feet."

  Jake nodded and quirked a brow. "That's what I heard. Although, I've never danced with the man myself. So, I can't confirm or deny that fact." She smiled again, relieved that he was so determined to heal the hurt of moments ago. But, in spite of his efforts at being nice, she could still see, in his eyes, a shadow of the pain she'd caused him. He cocked his head. "You want to walk?" he asked.

  "Sure," she agreed.

  They started along the boardwalk. For a few moments, the only sound was their steps, in perfect unison, and the noises emerging from the distant hall. The boardwalk was deserted, apart from a few townsfolk strolling slowly on the other side. Seemed like not everyone wanted to attend the social. It felt good to be with him again, she told herself. Watching him walk away from her like that had provoked a reaction which had taken her by surprise. Her inexplicable panic had faded. Now, she felt comfortable. Calm.

  They came to a part of the boardwalk where it dropped to ground level at the entrance to a narrow street which she knew led to the eastern edge of town. Stepping down, she gripped her skirts, careful not to fall. In spite of that, she stumbled, tripping on the edge of the step. Her hands flailed instinctively as she tried to balance herself. It was darker in this part of the street, which was why she didn't see Jake move quickly. He seized her hand firmly, steadying her, standing firm.

  Straightening upright and composing herself, she gazed at him. In the semi-darkness, she saw Jake's eyes, bright and attentive. His gaze contained a mixture of relief and delight. He smiled at her, still holding onto her hand.

  Then, suddenly, he did something which took her completely by surprise. He tugged gently on her hand. "Let's go to the river," he exclaimed.

  She resisted for only a brief moment. "River?"

  Flicking his thumb in the direction over his shoulder, he said: "It's not far." He coaxed her one more time, and then she nodded. Expecting him to lead her slowly down the narrow street, she was taken aback when he broke into a slow run, dragging her along behind him. "Come on, Emma. Keep up!" he called out to her and laughed.

  Tugged forward, she ran, keeping up with him. Smiling in the darkness, she held onto his hand as they both ran down the street, past houses and raced through a cluster of trees and down a pathway, illuminated by the lights from the nearby homes. She hadn't been down this road before, and she wondered why she trusted him to lead her to an unfamiliar place. But, she'd learned these last few days that there was one thing about Jake Buchanan she could rely on.

  She could trust him. Probably more than any man she'd ever known. He'd proven that time and again during the last few days.

  They made their way down a narrow path until they reached the bank of a narrow river which ran parallel to the course of Main Street. Slightly breathless, but savoring the sudden thrill of being with Jake, she slowed, releasing his hand. She felt a primitive, child-like elation. That brief, frantic run had washed away all the tension of the dance hall. The exhilaration had cleansed all the tightness out of her body and her mind.

  Emma gazed at Jake as he turned to face her. He was out of breath too. She could see his bright smile in the semi-darkness. She heard his breathing, slightly quicker than normal.

  "There's a bench here," he told her. She squinted her eyes and saw the low rectangular shape. He led her to it and they sat down next to one another. She hadn't noticed the gentle sound of the flowing water. Now that she and Jake were seated on the wooden bench, she heard the soft murmur and the distant chirping of insects in the dark grove of trees beyond the river. The sky above was black and scattered with stars. The moon had risen and cast a silvery light, enough so that she could see Jake. She drew in a breath, feeling the cool evening air in her lungs. Peace had settled upon her. She hadn't realized just how nervous she had been while at the social. She felt relieved to be away from all the prying eyes and the scrutiny.

  "What is it you want to tell me, Emma?" he asked suddenly.

  She peered at him. In the shadows, she could see he was gazing at her. "How did you know?" she asked.

  "You've had something on your mind since the moment I first set eyes on you," he declared. "And, tonight, you've looked like you're miles away."

  "Has it been that obvious?"

  He nodded. "Back there, I asked Grace if she could tell me what was going on. Whether it was something I should be worried about." He laughed. "But she told me it was none of my business."

  Although Grace still didn't know anything, Emma was gratified that Grace had been so circumspect. "She came with me to town when I got my message from back east," Emma explained. She saw his chin lift, and his eyes gaze expectantly at her. "That's what I need to explain to you. It's about how the girls and I came to be out here."

  "You don't have to tell me anything, Emma," he said in a low voice. "Not if you don't want to."

  Emma settled her hands in her lap and straightened, preparing herself for what she was about to say. "I want to, Jake." She paused. "I have to," she added with grave finality.

  He was silent for a few moments. Emma felt tension flare into life, as if the child-like fun they'd indulged in had already faded into memory. Emma's heart was pounding. Her mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts. Corralling them was proving harder than anything Jake would do back at the ranch. Wild animals were easy compared to her thoughts, she told herself. Finally, she settled herself.

  Emma glanced at Jake. He was staring straight at the river. Waiting. "You have to know one thing. The girls aren't my own children."

  She heard Jake draw in a breath. He straightened, but still didn't look at her. Maybe he didn't want to do anything that would put her off the whole idea of revealing the truth that was troubling her so much.

  "I'm employed by a charitable organization back east. The Foundling Society. They place children who've been rescued from the streets with
foster families out in the territories. It was my job to accompany Bethany and Clara to Billings. And leave them there, once I was satisfied with various formalities. Once I was sure they'd be safe."