Deceiving The Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 9)

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Deceiving The Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 9) Page 3

by Stella Clark


  Wade was drenched in sweat. But he was beaming with a toothy smile. “Hello. Miss Landers, right?”

  She felt her heart skip a beat as she tried to remember the answer as his damp shirt hinted at his thick arms. “I … Yes, sir. But please, call me Grace,” she offered, wondering why she felt so shy and bold at once. “Your parents have allowed me to stay for some time, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me here.”

  “Then that means you’re stuck with my parents, so I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “They can be a little much.”

  Clutching her papers, she stood and tried to focus on his face. The man was in a much better mood than when she had met him for the first time. “Oh, I don’t mind. This is—it’s better than home. New York, I mean. It was … well, not like this.”

  He cocked his head, tossing his hat on the bench beside her. She wondered what was going on since he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her the other day. “How do you mean?”

  Though she preferred honesty, Grace hesitated to dive into her pitiful childhood. “I just mean that it’s nice to—to see a couple who love each other. And green everywhere. Back east, everything is gray. It’s gray and loud. But here, I can actually think. I feel like I can breathe here.” Blushing, she shook her head. “That sounded childish and silly, didn’t it?”

  Wade studied her curiously. “Not at all. That’s what Wyoming is, you know. Fresh air and freedom. That’s why I’m never inside,” he added mildly as he moved to sit on the bench. Not knowing what else to do, she copied him. “You’ll have to come out for a ride on the range. I can show you around. If you think this is fresh air, well, just wait.”

  She couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. “That sounds incredible.” But then Grace frowned, realizing how close they were, how intimate they were acting. She leaned back, trying to force herself to look away. It wasn’t like she was drawn to him. It couldn’t be. He had no interest in marrying her; he’d told everyone that immediately.

  “Right,” Wade started when she said nothing more. “Maybe tomorrow then.”

  Be smart, she told herself, and don’t be fooled again. “I can’t,” she took a deep breath. “I just realized I can’t. I don’t know how to ride a horse. And besides, I have a book to write.” She held up the pages. “If you don’t mind, I had best return to it.”

  He didn’t say anything after that, but she could feel his gaze on her. Hunched over the paper, Grace begged an idea to come to mind, any idea, just so she could look busy. Before the awkwardness could grow any louder, she reluctantly started to draw squiggles on the paper in the hopes that he might get the idea.

  Eventually, Wade did. He picked up his hat, paused, and disappeared inside. Only then did Grace take a deep breath. Whatever had just happened could not be allowed to happen again. For the most part, it didn’t.

  ***

  Soon, she had been there for a month. She had half of a story outlined and drafted. Inspiration came best when she sat in the shade of a sunny day on the porch, but she had to keep a wary eye out for Wade Shelton. Though she couldn’t explain it, she could hardly think when he was around. When he joined them for supper, it was easy enough to distract herself with her food. But outside in the fresh air, it was impossible to ignore him.

  Chapter Six

  She was pretty. Wade wasn’t stupid. The girl was pretty and smart and clever. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or her opinions. At least, most of the time. But every now and then the young woman would pause, and after that she would turn away from him.

  It would be amusing if it wasn’t so annoying.

  The girl frustrated him for some reason and he just wanted to figure it out. Wade found himself stopping by the house more often, hoping he would come across her. Usually he was lucky. She’d made herself a comfortable spot beneath the willow tree in the front of the house. There was a blanket she’d spread out, and always a snack with juice to her left with her papers and books on the right.

  Clearly, she knew what she wanted. She was driven, more so than any of the other girls he knew. Most of them were also pretty, but they only ever talked about going to church or the store or ribbons or other things he would never understand. Whereas evening meals in his parents’ home were becoming a highlight of his week.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Grace laughed at another one of his statements. He hid a grin as he chewed on his broccoli. “A horse could never fly.”

  He shrugged. “I’m telling you, it did.” But then he caught his father shooting him a curious look and Wade hesitated before clearing his throat. What was that look supposed to mean? Realizing he’d been a little loud, he toned himself down. “Maybe next time we drive into the canyons, you could come along.”

  “I’d love to,” she started.

  But Leona shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that wouldn’t be proper. All those men, Wade, and it could be dangerous. What if the snows came early? Or she fell?”

  “I’d watch out for her,” he defended himself. “And so would the team. We’re all gentlemen, aren’t we? Pa, you say those are the only folks you hire,” Wade pointed out in his defense. “Besides, she’s our guest.”

  Jeb shrugged when his wife gave him a look. Then he put on a familiar grin that made Wade’s stomach drop. The man was up to something. “You heard him. He’ll watch out for her, so I think that should be just fine. Tomorrow, then?”

  “No, not tomorrow.” Wade found himself backing out with a shake of his head. It suddenly all felt like a trap and he needed to take a step back to see what he was missing. Dropping his utensils, he stood to leave. “Maybe—maybe next week. I just remembered I have to go.” And he made his escape out the back door.

  Cursing under his breath, he headed back to his cabin and kicked the rocks in his path. How had he not seen this before now? How had he forgotten his father’s agenda? The man wanted him to get married. He wanted grandchildren. And even after Wade had said no, his pa had still brought a woman into town and kept dangling her in front of Wade like a carrot in front of a horse.

  He was a horse. Groaning, he made it home and collapsed on the bed. He had been so stupid. There was still so much he wanted to do with his life. He had plenty of time for there to eventually be an heir.

  Sure, Grace wasn’t all bad. And Wade thought he could see himself marrying the girl. But the point was that he didn’t want to be married in the first place. Not yet. He’d been concentrating on making sure everyone else knew that when he forgot whether or not he knew it as well.

  ***

  For the next week, Wade avoided the house.

  He only returned when he started dreaming about the pretty brunette. Just itching to see her again, he headed back to the house one morning as he thought up excuses to tell her when he saw her next. Maybe he just needed to know something about New York. Or that book she was working on.

  “Wade, darling?”

  His ma was in the parlor darning a sock. He hesitated before coming around the corner. “Hi, Ma. I was just stopping by for something.”

  She beamed, beckoning him in. “Your father just left for Colorado, and Miss Landers is exploring the garden today.”

  “I didn’t ask,” Wade frowned.

  The woman smiled anyways. Then she held up one finger and picked up her basket of yarn. “You didn’t ask for these either, but I’m giving them to you all the same.” Out came a small bundle of folded paper. “Miss Landers’ letters. I thought you might be curious.”

  “I’m not,” he shrugged. “I’m not going to marry her, remember?”

  His ma shook her head. “I didn’t say anything about marriage. And these aren’t the letters that your father wrote in your place. It’s what Grace wrote when she thought she was writing to you. Do with them what you will,” she added. “And grab whatever it is you were looking for.”

  Studying the letters, he frowned. “What I was looking for?” Wade was tempted to read those letters right then and there. Forcing himself to be casual, he put t
he papers in his pocket. “Right. I should go.”

  But Wade didn’t go far. Instead, he stopped on the empty bench on the porch. His curiosity couldn’t take it any longer. He opened the letters and found stamped dates, showing when they were each sent.

  The first one made him grin since the first paragraph sounded so much like Grace. She mentioned her desire for honesty and stated that her life would not be controlled by a man, but that it would need to be a relationship built on trust and kindness. It appeared important to her.

  He liked it. She talked about wanting to be true to who she was, that she couldn’t hide herself in a way that would hurt her or others down the road. Grace has listed some of her finest qualities and mentioned a few things she was working on. Wade chuckled and dove into the other letters, finding them very similar in their mannerisms.

  She was a strange woman, for he had never met anyone like her before. Even the women in Texas weren’t like Grace Landers. Carefully tucking the letters away once he had read them thoroughly, Wade found himself wandering towards the garden where she was clearly taking a break from writing since she was elbow-deep in the dirt.

  “You don’t know how to garden, do you?”

  Her head peaked up from beneath the wide-brimmed hat she had borrowed. It didn’t fit her very well and when she fidgeted, it bent at an awkward angle. “I certainly do,” Grace promptly corrected him. “Do you not?”

  Wade chuckled. “Ma never liked my help in the garden.”

  She tutted. “You pulled all the wrong things out, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he protested. “Did Ma tell you?”

  Chuckling, Grace shook her head. The hat moved to another odd angle as she pulled another weed. “She didn’t have to. I could guess.”

  He hesitated as he tried to decide what that meant. “Well, anyways. She’ll kick you out soon enough as well. You pulled out one of her prized radishes.”

  “What!” the young woman yelped, jumping to her feet. Her hat slipped off as she looked around, scrambling to find the ruined vegetable. “Not the radishes! Not the—” then she stopped and turned to him. The grin on his face was so wide that it hurt his cheeks. “I can’t believe you teased me like that.” Dropping to her knees, she threw a couple weeds at him.

  Wade laughed, only half-heartedly dodging them. “You should have seen your face! That was funny.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she said hotly, and then paused before grudgingly admitting, “well, perhaps a little. But it was cruel,” Grace decided with a firm nod. “Your mother would be very disappointed in you.”

  Shrugging, he bent down to gather the weeds she had tossed his way. When she opened her hand for them, he offered them back so she could return them to the pile. Back down on her knees, she looked determined to return to work.

  “All right,” Wade found himself still grinning. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Oh? I like the sound of that.” Grace grabbed the hat. “How do you propose to do that?”

  He shrugged. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you around the ranch. You could use it for your book,” Wade added when she looked up suspiciously. “Besides, I already said I would take you, didn’t I?”

  Grace bit her lip. For a minute he wondered if she would refuse. But finally, she nodded. “All right. I accept. Tomorrow it is. Finally,” she added with a look.

  Chuckling, Wade shrugged and tapped the brim of her hat to make it sit even more crookedly this time. “Tomorrow, then.” And he turned around, whistling as he left the garden and headed back to his job.

  Chapter Seven

  “I really think we should take this more slowly,” Grace called after Wade the following morning as he started off with his horse. In her hands, she gripped the reins for her own horse tightly, trying not to move. The ears flicked in front of her and suddenly she felt certain the animal had heard the hitch in her breathing.

  Turning around, Wade fixed his hat to get a better look at her. “You’re going to be fine. He’s our best horse. Just cluck your tongue like I told you and he’ll follow. It’s not like he’ll take off with you down the hill or anything.”

  That was exactly her concern. But as he shouted across the distance, she could feel her cheeks beginning to burn. Clearly, the man had never once felt anxious on top of a horse; he was a natural and moved easily, as though they were one.

  It was fascinating to watch. How did he do it?

  “Are you going to stand there all day?”

  As usual, the moment he opened his mouth all potential kind thoughts of the young man dissipated. Grace tried what he suggested, and loudly clucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. The horse took a single step before deciding that was far enough.

  “See?” She groaned in exasperation.

  He chuckled as he trotted over to her. “You’re going to want this.” Wade passed close enough to put the hat he’d been wearing on her head and slipped beside her to take the reins. “I’ll lead him for a while, but that’s it.”

  Unable to suppress a grin, she nodded her thanks and held tight to the pommel as they plodded forward. It was the strangest sensation, sitting so high above the ground under a beast of four legs. Some writers had described the act of riding a horse, but Grace realized it was something that she only now understood. It was strange, and rather uncomfortable, but somewhat soothing.

  “We’ll stop by the mess house first,” Wade started talking. “There’s a trail there that we can take. See it there? The bigger one. There’s a large kitchen for us boys to eat at, and then it breaks off into rooms. Since I’m foreman, I’ve got the cabin.”

  She squinted as they headed towards it. While it was much smaller than his parents’ house where she stayed, it was half the size of the mess house and built in a similar manner. Grace suddenly wondered if it looked the same inside but flushed for such a silly thought.

  “It looks nice,” she volunteered. “Though perhaps a little lonely.”

  Wade shrugged. “It’s nice and quiet. No one watching over my shoulder, you know?”

  Grace tried to imagine that. “Strange. In New York, you see, we all live on top of each other. If it’s not noisy at night, then I can’t sleep. Well, couldn’t sleep,” she corrected herself. “I suppose it’s completely opposite.” She grinned. “I really like it.”

  He glanced back at her with a smile. “I’m glad.” They shared a look before he cleared his throat and turned back to the path. “Think any of this will fit well in your book?”

  Clutching the pommel even tighter as they headed downhill, Grace bit her lip. “I certainly hope so. My first story is about a young man, you see, who, like me, leaves the city for the West. He goes on adventures and learns to build a life of his own. Independent, strong, and brave.”

  “Are you talking about yourself or your book?” he teased her as they passed the mess hall. Grace stared at him as he turned to wave to a couple of men heading out of the mess hall. “Hey, Thomas! Did you check on the calves yet?”

  The taller of the two nodded. “Sure am. Bringing Miles here for backup. One’s growing in his horns and is already nasty.”

  As ever, Wade only laughed. “All right. Have some fun.”

  Her heart fluttered as she studied the young man curiously. Though she had met many people in New York, there was no one like Wade. He was mild and strong, proud and humble, playful and serious. Sometimes it made no sense and sometimes she was having too much fun to care. Did he treat everyone like this? Or just her?

  “You really like being foreman, don’t you?” she asked as they headed down the trail.

  Wade gave a short whistle. “I sure do.” He glanced back to offer her his most charming grin. “I’ve been riding horses since before I could walk. Pa brought me on my first cattle drive when I was only four. They may not smell great, but being here keeps me going.”

  Eventually, as they talked, he returned the reins to her and offered a few more instructions. It made her nervous, but he never step
ped out of reach. Soon, her heart felt like it was beating in sync with her horse as Wade took her around to all of his favorite spots. They came across several of the team, and he knew every single one of them.

  ***

  By the end of the evening, Grace couldn’t take her eyes off Wade. The sun was nearly over the mountains as they made their way back to the stables, still laughing about how he’d tried helping untangle her hair from a tree branch, only to tangle his own sleeve in it as well.

  “No, come here,” she convinced him when he stepped back after helping her get off the horse. Trying to ignore the way it had felt with Wade’s arms around her waist, she urged him back to her side to check on his hand. “Those silly branches were rather sharp. How’s your hand?”

  He grinned as he offered his arm with the sleeve rolled up. “Battle scars, that’s all. See? The blood already dried.”

  Grabbing his arm, she inspected it carefully. “I didn’t see the blood earlier. Oh, I’m terribly sorry for that. I knew I should have pinned my hair up for today.”

  Putting his other hand over hers, he patted it. “It’s the least of my worries. By morning, it’ll be like nothing even happened. But turn to the light, would you? What about your face? Any blood?”

  She scoffed lightly as he wrapped his hands around her cheeks and turned her towards the light. “Of course not. I’m much more careful than you, which we both learned today.”

  His lips quirked. “All right, there’s no blood. But how can you be more careful when you’re the one who caught her hair in a tree branch? That doesn’t strike me as very careful. If anything, that strikes me as a very careless person.”

  As Grace opened her mouth to protest, a smile already reaching across her cheeks, she paused when she caught the shine in his eyes. He wore that sweet smile again, cocking his head to the side as though he needed a better look at her. A soft tremor danced through her body, urging her to take a step forward. She obeyed helplessly, wondering if it was possible for hands to fit that perfectly around her face. They were rough and warm as one of his thumbs caressed her cheek.

 

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