His Substitute Mail-Order Bride. Sherri Shackelford

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СКАЧАТЬ you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound surly.”

      She’d take him at his word that he’d help her find a job. Nothing more. Cowboy Creek was her best chance at living free of the scandal, and she most certainly wasn’t confiding in anyone about her recent troubles. Especially Russ. With his past connections in Philadelphia, he could rip open the story before she had a chance to escape again.

      “I understand pride, Anna.” He glanced at her askance. “Just remember that pride often comes before a fall.”

      “Pride is not the problem.”

      She had more important things to consider. Things like surviving to the next week, the next month, the next year. Pride was the least of her worries. The news in Philadelphia had shredded whatever vanity she might have possessed.

      “Then I won’t press you,” Russ said.

      Her heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm once again. “Thank you.”

      “We’re almost there. I’m sure you’ll want to rest after we’ve visited the doctor.”

      For now, she’d be grateful for the things that had turned out well. At least she wasn’t stranded in the next town over. At least she’d made it this far. At least he didn’t know about the scandal. Yet.

      He was suspicious of her. Sooner or later that skepticism was going to get the better of him, and he was going to make inquiries. He’d sent to Philadelphia for a bride, after all, which meant he kept in touch with people he knew there. How long could she hide? Once he mentioned their renewed acquaintance to his friends back east, someone was bound to share the salacious gossip. After all, it had only been three months since Edward’s death had made her a widow.

      At least letters traveled slowly in this part of the country. Perhaps by the time he discovered her secret, she’d have enough money to relocate to another town.

      “I don’t need a doctor,” she grumbled. “I just need a little rest.” She stifled a yawn. Lately, it felt as though no matter how much she slept, she still needed another hour or two.

      Russ touched the gash on his forehead. “The doctor is for me.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

      “Relax, Anna. I’m teasing you. I’m trying to put you at ease. You used to enjoy my jokes.”

      She tugged at a loose button on the wrist of her glove. “That was a long time ago. A lot has happened since then.”

      He rested his hand over hers, dwarfing her fingers in a brief embrace before pulling away. “You have my condolences on your father.”

      His touch stirred up long-dormant feelings. The statement was a diplomatic concession considering the treatment he’d received from her father following the jilting.

      “His death was painless.” Her stomach dropped. Russ knew her father had passed away, therefore he must keep in touch with people back home. People who might share the circumstances of her husband’s untimely death. “He didn’t suffer.”

      “Losing a loved one is never easy.”

      Her heart pounded against her ribs once more. He was going to discover the truth, and then what? Would he keep her secret?

      “He always seemed invincible.” She tugged on the loose thread. If she lost the button on her glove, she’d never find a match. She’d have to replace them all. “He was always such a powerful presence, I somehow thought he’d live forever.”

      “I suppose we all think our parents are invincible when we’re young.”

      A memory tugged at the edges of her recollections. There was a hint of scandal surrounding Russ’s father, though she couldn’t recall the exact circumstances. She’d been too young at the time, and whispered conversations had come to a halt when she entered the room.

      She yanked the button free. What did buttons matter? What did any of this matter anyway? There was no use delving into either of their pasts. After today, she doubted she’d see Russ again. He probably wanted to be rid of her just as quickly as she wanted to escape his company.

      Disappointment warred with relief. The less he saw of her, the less likely he was to consider her past.

      If only he was the ogre she’d invented over the past five years instead of this handsome, solicitous savior. Then again, nothing else had gone as planned; why should her experience with Russ be any different? She’d missed the train, she’d been accosted by outlaws, and Russ wasn’t the cruel villain she’d invented after he’d jilted her sister. The more she knew about him, the more he challenged the assumptions she’d brought forward from all those years ago.

      She was tired. She was out of sorts. Perhaps she simply wasn’t reading beneath the surface of his actions. The facts were firmly embedded in her memory: Charlotte had eloped weeks after the jilting to avoid the scandal, and their father had disowned her. Anna hadn’t spoken to her sister since.

      If Charlotte and Russ had married, then Anna would still be in touch with her sister. If she’d had Charlotte to lean on after their father’s death, she might not have entered such a hasty and unfortunate marriage. If Russ had greeted her announcement about Susannah with anger and recriminations instead of pushing his feelings aside, then she’d feel better about deceiving him.

       If. If. If.

      The disparity in the villain she’d created and the man before her made her all the more determined to repay her debt quickly. Yet more questions balanced on the tip of her tongue. Considering the outsize role Russ had played in her life, she didn’t know much about him. He’d been in the war. His father was gone. He had siblings. That’s all Anna could recall.

      Against her better judgment, she was hungry for information about the life Russ led outside of his law practice. Perhaps the information might even be useful as she settled, albeit temporarily, in the town.

      “You lost your father, too, didn’t you?” she asked.

      “He’s not part of our family any longer.”

      Shock rippled through her. She’d always assumed the hint of scandal was linked to his father’s death, but the evasive answer pointed to something else. “What was he like?”

      She didn’t know why she’d asked such a personal question beyond a nagging sense of puzzlement about his father. Even if Charlotte had known the truth, she was hardly likely to confide in her younger sister.

      “He was a good man,” Russ said, his voice flat. “Proud. Honorable. Loyal to his family. Too proud, sometimes.”

      The hairs on the back of her neck stirred. Though his words were glowing with praise, the tone didn’t match his sentiment. There was a slight edge in Russ’s voice, a pursing of his lips when he spoke. As someone familiar with keeping secrets, she recognized the signs. There was more to Russ’s father than what he was saying.

      “You have a brother, as well, don’t you?” she prodded.

      “Two of them, to be precise. Seth lives just outside of Cowboy Creek with his new wife. They recently adopted three boys and his wife’s niece.”

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