A Bride for Wyatt (The Proxy Christmas Series)

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A Bride for Wyatt (The Proxy Christmas Series) Page 3

by Barbara Goss

Mr. Butler, along with two other men, carried in the roasted turkeys. The crowd said, “ooh” and “ahh,” when they saw the turkeys. This was the most magnificent dinner Vera had ever seen or taken part in.

  Polly got everyone’s attention by clapping her hands together. “It’s time to pray for all we’re thankful for.”

  Her husband, James, came out and said a prayer of thanks. Everyone chimed, “Amen,” when it ended.

  Polly then asked that they come up and “dig in,” in an orderly line. Vera had never seen so much food in her life. Her plate wasn’t large enough to sample everything, but she tried anyway taking a small helping of as many dishes as she could.

  There was turkey, dressing, cranberries, mixed pickles, hard-boiled eggs in beet juice, pickled beets, baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, two different types of gravy, sweet potatoes, coleslaw, a raw vegetable platter, biscuits, cornbread, and off to the side, pies of every kind.

  They carried their loaded plates to the table and while enjoying casual conversation. Vera felt her husband stiffen, and she looked up to see Wyatt’s face turn white as a sheet.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

  Grace had overheard, and she turned in the direction of Wyatt’s stare. “Oh, no! It’s Lucy Ames!”

  Chapter Four

  To Wyatt’s mortification, Lucy strolled in with her father, Fred Ames, who owned a cattle ranch on the other side of Hays. Lucy strutted in proudly, as if she hadn’t run off with a man a few months before. Wyatt heard several gasps when people recognized her, and several glanced his way to see what his reaction would be.

  He returned to eating calmly, although he’d lost his appetite.

  Lucy swung her hips provocatively up to the table and picked up a plate. She wore a tight-waisted dress that hugged her bosom. The dress’s low-cut front displayed what most women in town preferred to keep secret. Pink flowers held up some of her red hair, while the rest flowed down her back. Large gold earrings dangled from her ears.

  Wyatt coughed when her strong perfume reached him. He’d forbade her to wear it while betrothed to him since it made him cough or sneeze.

  The room grew silent. Lucy didn’t seem to mind, although her father looked uncomfortable. They took seats at an unoccupied table. Though it was at the far side of the room, it was still near enough to Wyatt to set off a sneezing fit.

  “Are you all right?” Vera asked, looking concerned.

  Wyatt nodded. “I must be allergic to something I ate.”

  “You’ve hardly eaten anything,” Vera said.

  “Excuse me.” Wyatt stood. “I need to step outside and get a breath of fresh air.”

  ~~~***~~~

  Grace leaned over and whispered to Vera, “Lucy was the woman once betrothed to Wyatt. She ran off with his best friend, Lee, months ago. It seems the town hasn’t forgotten her.”

  Vera stared at Lucy. “Why, she’s beautiful! Poor Wyatt.”

  Grace frowned. “She’s gaudy and selfish. I wonder why she’s back in town.”

  Vera tried to judge Lucy with fairness. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Given, she appears showy and flamboyant, but her features are outstanding. I can’t help but feel unworthy of Wyatt when compared to her, Grace.”

  Clay and Jack were engrossed in their own conversation and that left Grace and Vera to whisper about Lucy unhindered.

  “I wonder why she feels like she needs to display herself so ... so tawdrily,” Vera said. “She certainly doesn’t need all that to attract attention, that’s for sure.”

  Wyatt returned, sat down, and pushed his plate away. “Whenever you and Jack are ready, we can take our leave.”

  On the ride home, Vera had to bite her lip to keep from asking him about Lucy. She was dying to know all about their betrothal, but she sensed Wyatt didn’t want to talk about it, so she rode along silently. She stared at his rigid profile. He seemed angry; and after such a delightful day.

  He glanced over at her. His smile seemed forced. “Did you enjoy the dinner?”

  She nodded. “It was the most wonderful Thanksgiving ever.”

  Wyatt returned his view to the road. “I’m glad.”

  She wanted to ask him what was bothering him, but she knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. She’d let him tell her when he was ready. If ever.

  He dropped her off at the porch and took the buggy and Jack to the barn. She heard Jack offer to unhitch the horses, so Wyatt followed her into the house.

  “How about a cup of tea or coffee?” she offered.

  Wyatt hung up his jacket and hat. “Tea sounds wonderful.”

  The stove was still warm from breakfast, so it didn’t take long for her water to come to a boil. She brewed the tea, brought it into the dining room, and poured the tea.

  “The house feels chilly,” she said.

  “I’ll fire up the coal stoves,” he said, stirring his tea. “Joe Hurley said we might get a frost tonight.”

  Vera nodded and sipped her tea. She loved times like this, alone with her husband.

  Wyatt set his cup down on the saucer and sighed. “I suppose you know by now that it upset me to see Lucy at the dinner today.”

  Vera shrugged. “You need not talk about it. I understand it must have been a shock for you to see her. Grace told me about your betrothal.”

  Wyatt frowned. “She was quite a character. She dropped me like cow dung when she met my best friend, Lee Baxter. His father owns a cattle ranch and they are well-to-do. I supposed what hurt the most wasn’t a broken heart as much as a bruised ego.”

  Vera smiled up at him shyly. “Lucy is beautiful.”

  “And she well knows it, and she uses it to her advantage. My mother once told me that it’s all right to make a mistake as long as you learn from it. I learned from it, all right.”

  “You sound like you’re still upset.”

  “I guess I never expected she’d come back to Hays, is all. I’ve had a long time to think about it, and she would have made the worst farmer’s wife.”

  “Why do you think that?” Vera asked.

  “Well,” Wyatt said, stretching out the word, “beauty won’t milk the cows, cook, clean house, or even be a good companion. A farmer needs someone who can do all those things and still look good on his arm ... like you, Vera.”

  Vera hated that she couldn’t stop the blush running from her neck to her cheeks or the shy smile she gave him. “I don’t think you can compare my looks to Lucy’s—”

  “Yes, I can. You are all the things she isn’t, and you’re still an attractive woman. Put fancy hair, clothes, and makeup on Hilda and you still have a cow. All Lucy has to offer is her looks, and she knows it, so she plays it up as much as she can.”

  “I wonder what happened to your friend, Leland?” she asked.

  Wyatt shrugged. “Poor Lee. He probably got ditched for someone else.”

  Vera pressed her luck. “Would you still be friends with him if he were to show up here to see you? After all, he did steal your intended.”

  “I would. We’d been friends from our schoolhouse days. He actually did me a favor—Lucy’s beauty blinded me, and I looked no deeper. It took some time and my brother Clay, to knock some sense into me.”

  Vera stood and picked up the empty tea tray. “I’m glad. Goodnight, Wyatt.”

  Vera could hear Wyatt firing up the coal heaters and stoking the fireplaces for the night. She shivered beneath her quilt. Had he actually called her attractive? She giggled to herself. He had. In his own masculine way, he’d given her a compliment she’d cherish.

  Finally, she heard him close the door to the master bedroom. Would she ever sleep there with him? Did she even want to?

  ~~~***~~~

  Wyatt pulled his quilt up to his neck and hoped the coal stoves and fireplaces would keep the house warm enough overnight. It was only his second winter in the house, and he was never sure if he’d put enough coal in the stove or enough wood in the fireplace. He hadn’t even thought to chec
k the fireplace in Vera’s room. He hoped she knew enough to stoke it to keep the unburned wood near the middle. Wyatt figured she did—she’d probably been doing it longer than he had.

  Vera seemed to get lovelier each time he saw her. On that day, she’d worn a dress of orange and russet, which brought out the brown in her eyes. Her face was pleasing enough, and her complexion was flawless. What he found most attractive about her, besides her smile, was the look of ... . oh, what word did he want? She always looked so ... so in charge. She seemed self-assured, like she had everything under control, which she usually did. Her look was stoic and confident at once, and he wondered if she ever lost control and cried.

  He no longer feared a lack of physical attraction for her. Helping her in and out of the buggy had assured him of that. She might not show it, but she had a slim yet sturdy figure, which he found seductive. He thought that what a man couldn’t see, gave a woman more mystique than what a man—and the entire world in Lucy’s case—could see. It made a man wonder as it hinted at somewhat of an exciting adventure ... when the time came, of course. That brought him to his main worry: how and when should he make his first move toward intimacy?

  He’d felt nothing but disgust inside when he’d spotted Lucy that day. How could she leave town with a man and then return to face the town? Had she no guilt? During their short betrothal, she’d always tried to urge him into intimacy, but while her beauty had deceived him, he wasn’t dumb enough to let her tempt him into bed. That wasn’t what the Bible said should happen before marriage. And here he was now, married and sleeping alone; how ironic.

  Chapter Five

  Vera and Wyatt were having breakfast together when Vera went to answer the door. Wyatt knew something was wrong the moment Vera entered the kitchen, wearing a frown.

  “Who was it?” Wyatt asked.

  “It’s not who was it, it’s who is it? She’s in the sitting room.”

  Wyatt stood. “Who is she?”

  “Lucy.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “What could she possibly want with me?”

  Vera picked up the dirty dishes. “She asked to speak with you.”

  Wyatt uncharacteristically took hold of Vera’s arm. “You need to come with me.”

  Vera set the dishes down and let him pull her into the sitting room.

  Lucy’s eyes widened when she saw that Wyatt had brought his wife with him. “I’d hoped for a private talk.”

  Wyatt took Vera’s hand in his. “I’d like to introduce my wife, Vera. Vera, this is Lucy, an old friend. Lucy, anything you can say to me you can say in front of Vera. We have no secrets.”

  Lucy’s raised one eyebrow, and she sighed. “Very well.”

  Vera pointed to a chair. “Won’t you have a seat, Lucy?”

  Vera and Wyatt sat on the sofa while Lucy sat on the over-stuffed chair. “How can we help you?” Vera asked.

  “I came for two reasons. First, I want to apologize to Wyatt for my breaking off our betrothal so ... um ... abruptly. I also came to warn him about his new friend. His name is Jack Haskell, and he’s wanted in Texas. There’s a bounty on his head.”

  Wyatt frowned. “What?”

  “My father and I came here from El Paso three years ago, and I never forget a face, especially one as handsome as Jack’s.”

  All Wyatt could do was stare at the woman who’d barged into their home, dressed all in red, to tell him his handyman was a criminal. Was she telling the truth?

  Lucy let the fur cape she wore slide off her shoulders, revealing a good amount of her neckline and below.

  “My,” Lucy said to Wyatt, “you sure married quickly after I left. Where did you two meet, anyway?”

  Wyatt stood. “Never mind that. What was Jack supposed to have done, anyway?”

  “He’s a gambler, and he shot a man who he thought was cheating.”

  Wyatt paced before the fireplace. “Are you going to turn him in?”

  Lucy played with her reticule. “I may, unless he offers me something I can’t refuse to remain quiet.”

  “Have you spoken to him?”

  “No, I’m not sure where to find him. I saw him with you at the dinner yesterday and hoped you could tell me where to locate him.”

  Wyatt didn’t know what to do or say. He looked to Vera for help, but she just sat there calmly and smiled at him before addressing Lucy. “How about if we have him contact you instead? You’re living with your father, I take it?”

  Lucy seemed stunned by Vera’s question. “No! Um ... that is ... I don’t want my father to see him. He’ll turn him in.”

  Vera smiled sweetly at Lucy. “I see. Then, perhaps we can have him meet you somewhere ... like the café in town.”

  Lucy pulled her cape on and sighed. “I suppose that will have to do.” She stood to face Wyatt who was leaning on the fireplace mantel. She pouted. “Do you forgive me for leaving with Lee?”

  Wyatt nodded. “Of course, you did me a favor.”

  “Really!” Lucy exclaimed as she walked toward the front door. “Lee was such a bore. Tell Jack to meet me at the café at noon tomorrow. Good day.”

  Wyatt laughed once she’d left.

  Vera swung around and stared at him. “What’s so funny?”

  “Not funny but clever. You handled that well, Mrs. Stone.”

  “Should we fear Jack?” she asked.

  “No, we don’t know if it’s the truth. Maybe the man that he shot had cheated, and it was a fair fight. I don’t condone killing, but in El Paso, I hear that’s quite the norm. I like Jack. I think he deserves the chance to explain his past to us.”

  Vera smiled up at him. “I agree.”

  “I’ll go out in the barn and see if he’s there yet.”

  Wyatt brought Jack into the sitting room where they greeted him warmly and invited him to have a seat.

  “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” Vera offered.

  “I think not, but thank you. I drank nearly a whole pot of coffee before I came today.” Jack took a seat. “I need more energy to go out in this cold weather. I’m from Texas, so I’m used to warmth.”

  Wyatt asked, “Where in Texas?”

  “I’ve lived in so many towns, it would take a while to name them all.”

  Wyatt gave Vera a meaningful look. He was evading the question. Maybe what Lucy had told them was true.

  “Jack, we had a visitor today who claims you killed a man in El Paso.” Wyatt held up his hand when he saw that Jack was about to react. “The woman wants something in return for her silence.”

  Vera said, “We’d like to hear the truth from you, Jack.”

  Jack rubbed his face with his hands before answering. “It’s true. I shot a man, and he wasn’t just any man but the sheriff’s son.”

  “What happened?” Wyatt asked.

  “I used to gamble, but I haven’t touched a playing card since that day,” Jack said. “The man was cheating. I called him on it, he took offense and he pulled his gun on me. I reacted by pulling out my gun and shooting him before he could get a shot off. I never ran from a town so fast in my life. They’d planned to lynch me. Since there’s a bounty on my head, I made my way north, finding jobs here and there on farms along the way.”

  Wyatt paced the floor. He stopped in front of Jack. “You say he pulled his gun first?”

  “I swear, but the man I shot was the sheriff’s son, no one would speak up for me. All of his friends told the sheriff I’d shot him. They even put his gun back into his holster to frame me.”

  Vera looked up at Wyatt and nodded. Wyatt knew it meant she thought he was being truthful.

  Wyatt sank into a chair. “I’m not sure what Lucy Ames wants from you, but I’d be careful if I were you. I wouldn’t trust her.”

  “I don’t even know the woman. Where am I supposed to meet her?”

  “The café, tomorrow, at lunchtime.”

  “Should I go?”

  “Well, she claims she’ll turn you in if you don’t.” Wyatt shrugged.
“I wish there was something I could do to help you. My wife and I are preparing for a trip to Missouri to visit her family. We’re leaving in a few weeks. I really counted on your looking after our place while we’re gone.”

  “I’d be happy to—unless I’m dangling from a rope by then.”

  Vera said, “That’s so unfair.”

  Jack stood. “I guess I should get back to work. I’m still filling the silo, and Hilda’s out back, grazing.”

  “Listen, Jack,” Wyatt said as he walked him to the door, “if you meet Lucy to see what she wants, don’t promise her anything, but report back to me.”

  “How will I know who she is?”

  “She’ll stand out. Look for red hair, bright colors, and a lot of makeup.”

  When Wyatt returned to the sitting room, Vera picked up her sewing. “I feel bad for him. The other man drew first.”

  “He’s in a pickle, all right. I just don’t think there’s anything we can do to help him.” Wyatt glanced at her sewing. “Are you almost finished making your gifts?”

  “Our gifts,” Vera corrected.

  Wyatt smiled. “But you’re doing all the work.”

  “You paid for the supplies,” she quipped with a wink.

  “Do you think your siblings will like me?” he asked.

  “Certainly, what’s not to like?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “With so many in the family, will they have enough room for us?”

  Vera laughed. “That’s a good question. The house has three large bedrooms and two of them are wall to wall beds. The boys have the smaller room, the girls the other, and the third was our parents’ room. None of us have ever slept there. Thea wrote that she’d be cleaning that room for us.”

  Wyatt wondered how many beds the room had. The situation might prove uncomfortable. He looked at Vera and saw that she was blushing.

  There had been so many times Wyatt had felt the urge to touch Vera’s shoulder or arm affectionately. He didn’t, but he’d wanted to. One of them had to be the first to start them off toward intimacy. He knew that he wanted an intimate relationship with Vera. He supposed that, being the man, it was up to him to show his affection first.

 

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