A Bride for Keeps (16 page)

She squirmed. He was ready to pester again. Maybe it would have been better to have
massacred the song with her pitiful voice. “Summer Street Church.”

He stretched out his legs. “What kind of church was it?”

She tore apart the grass in her hands. “I don’t know. Big? Father took us there because
Mr. Kendall and Mr. Yang attended.”

“Kendall and Yang?”

She shrugged. “Two men who did business with my father. Well, Kendall did. Father
just wished he did business with Mr. Yang. He made sure to greet them each time we
went.”

“So you really didn’t go that much?”

“No.” Would he be mad? It’s not like they attended church often here either.

“Did they teach from the Bible?”

“I didn’t have a Bible to look up what they were saying, but I’m sure that’s what
churches do.” She searched her mind for a chore that would have enough persuasive
power to excuse her from this interrogation. Church could be important for him, but
it wasn’t for her, and she didn’t want to say anything to offend him since they were
finally on speaking terms.

He leaned forward over his guitar. “Did they talk much about Christ and how to know
God?”

“I suppose so.” Would he be angry if she admitted she didn’t think you could really
know God? Everett certainly talked to the air like God listened to him when he prayed
over meals, but maybe that’s just how he learned to pray. But even if God did listen
to him, He wouldn’t listen to her. “The pastor definitely harped on the things we
did wrong.”

“Did he touch on God’s love, and how He wants to get to know you?”

She got on her knees and brushed the broken blades of grass off her front. “I’m sure
he did. I better get to making lunch, if you would excuse me—”

“Julia, wait a second.”

She stopped herself from standing.
Please let me go.

“I need to apologize for something.”

Apologize? Could he see how much this was bothering her?

“The way I’ve acted these past weeks has not reflected God’s love.” He picked at his
hat. “Not at all, actually. I hope
you can forgive me.” He cleared his throat. His face a slight hue of pink. “I shouldn’t
have been so . . . scared to talk to you. I was an idiot because—”

“It’s all right, Everett.” She stood and nodded to break off his discomfiture. When
his mouth opened again, she rushed to cut him off. “I’ve got to get back to work,
but feel free to enjoy your music. I’ll have lunch ready by the time you get back.”

She gathered her skirts and stumbled over the tree root in her haste. A few minutes
passed before his guitar droned his song again, but he didn’t join in with lyrics.
She glanced over her shoulder. He lazily strummed, staring into the sky.

Thankful to be free from his questions, she strode home, passing the new cabin. The
light color of the wood exterior gave it a shiny appearance compared to the old shack.
He’d spent a lot of time on it.

She rounded the corner and frowned at her wilting garden plants. She wasn’t the girl
he needed. Even if she scrounged around in the prairie all day, she’d not have enough
stored up for the winter to see them through. That’s what he’d asked her here for,
why he’d married her. He needed someone who knew how to run a farm. A girl who liked
going to church. A woman who wanted to be a lover and mother. A wife who wasn’t her.

She groaned as she picked up the buckets and trudged to the pond. If it would only
rain, she could use the well again. If Everett prayed for anything, it ought to be
for a nice storm. She struggled with the weight of the pails and the heaviness inside.

How she had longed for Everett’s chatter, but now his talk ranged too close, too intimate,
and his gaze made her uncomfortable. They’d only been married for a month and
a half. As much as she would love to live in a nicer, larger house, perhaps it would
be best if they lived in separate buildings. His gaze measured her too often lately,
especially when she passed on adding to the prayers at mealtime. She couldn’t ask
him to allow her to live alone in the house he’d worked hard on, but she feared staying
close to a man who looked at her like he did: boldly yet alluring, judging yet compassionate.
But then, could she handle being alone, completely alone on the wind-blasted prairie?
He was nothing like Theodore beyond coloring and build. Could her heart yield and
her fears subside enough to give him a chance?

She needed time. More time.

The sound of harnesses brought her up short.

An unfamiliar team stood strapped to a shoddy wagon in front of the shack. Gooseflesh
formed on her arms. Julia glanced toward the path to the creek but didn’t see Everett.
Breathing deeply, she forged ahead to welcome the visitor.

No one stood near the wagon. She dropped off her buckets at the garden’s edge. A twinge
in her gut kept her from calling out a greeting. A proper visitor would have waited
near his animals or announced himself.

She stood on tiptoe and peered in the cabin’s window. No one inside. She spied the
shotgun on the rack above the cookstove and stepped inside to grab it. Her hands shook
with its weight. She tried to figure out how to hold it to appear as if she knew what
she was doing. Another thing a farmer’s wife ought to know. She tested its weight
a few times in her hand. Giving up, she decided to use it for a club if need be. With
the firearm at her side, she slinked out onto the porch and scanned the yard. Still
clear.

The barn door stood ajar. Trembling and sweat made it
difficult to hold on to the gun’s stock, but she pushed herself to cross the distance.
She lifted the gun to her shoulder, ready to heave it down upon an intruder like an
ax. Her breathing matched the rhythm of her heart.

A hunched figure in the barn’s shadowy interior stirred.

The shadow unfurled and the outline of a cowboy hat popped off the specter’s top and
traveled to its chest.

“Afternoon, sweetheart.” The voice was sickeningly sweet. “Whatcha got there?”

Julia grabbed the stock tighter. She should run. Oh, how she wanted to run, but it
would expose her back. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my barn?”

The figure’s swagger was familiar. Ned Parker’s face showed up in a beam of light
stabbing through a gap in the roof.

Her stance eased, but her heart sped up. “What are you doing here, Mr. Parker?”

He stopped in front of her and held his palms out, away from his body. “You can put
that gun down. I’m no thief.” His eyes narrowed.

She should lower her gun, but though he was a neighbor, her arms wouldn’t cooperate.

He chuckled. “It’d be easier to stop a criminal or critter iffen you made ready to
use that gun for shooting. Not for clobbering.”

She lowered the shotgun and shoved the barn door wide
open. Light, much more light, was required. “Again, Mr. Parker, what are you doing
in my barn?” His sneer made her skin prickle. So much like Theodore’s the moment she
told him she wouldn’t marry him. She shuffled away and threw a glance toward the path,
hoping the pale blue of Everett’s shirt would appear through the leaves. Nothing but
green.

Ned strolled up to her, his thumbs tucked in his leather belt. “It’s Ned, sweetheart.”
His lips pushed up his scraggly mustache. “I’m here to borrow Everett’s plow. Mine’s
broken.” The left side of his face twitched.

His eyes wandered from hers to other parts of her body. Cold shivered up her back
and pooled in the base of her skull. Could she not get away from these kinds of men?
She looked out at the line of trees. Why wasn’t Everett shadowing her like he had
the past few days? “I’m afraid I can’t give permission for you to take it.”

He leaned his body against the doorjamb, his focus returned to her eyes. “That’s all
right. Was just getting it ready. I’ll wait for Everett.”

Did a plow need to get ready? If only she knew more about farm things! How long would
Everett be gone? She didn’t want Ned to wait around. “I can go get him for you.”

“No need. What I’m really needing is something to drink.”

Julia ignored the way his tongue moved across his lips. “I’ve got . . .” She crimped
her eyes shut. She couldn’t invite him in. What if he tried something? But what else
could she do if he was here for something the men had already discussed? “I could
bring you some tea while you wait. Everett should be along soon.” And if he wasn’t
back by the time she’d finished serving Ned, she’d go get him.

His lips twirked. “You serving sweetened tea?”

She tipped her head down.

“Of course you are.” He put his cowboy hat back on. “What other kind of tea would
you serve?” He reached for her shotgun. “Let me carry that back for you.”

She jerked it to her shoulder, cradling its butt in the palm of her hand. “I’ve got
it, thank you.” She didn’t want his help for anything.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I could teach you to use that thing properly. Then when
a real scoundrel came along, you’ll have him in quite a predicament.” He took a step
closer. “Of course, just batting your lashes over them dark brown eyes could get a
man in quite a predicament of another sort.”

The ice crystals residing at the base of her skull shuddered out to her elbows. “This
way, Mr. Parker.” She turned and practically ran to the cabin. Where she’d invited
him. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

She faced him as she held open the door with her back. “It’s too hot to go inside.
Why don’t you just have a seat on the porch, and I’ll bring you a cup.” He hadn’t
sped up to match her pace, but swaggered. She slammed the door behind her, not waiting
for a response.

She leaned the shotgun against the wall and banged through the pots. Light poured
into the room as Ned moseyed in and sat himself at the table. She set one pan with
water to boil. Another one she gripped, testing its weight. She could swing it hard
if she had to. Hit him square in the face.

What was she thinking? Her nerves popped like the little roiling bubbles in the pan
as she kept her face turned from where he sat watching her. He was simply an ill-mannered
neighbor, even had his dirty feet on her table.

If only she hadn’t felt obligated to be neighborly, she could have left him in the
barn. She gulped some breaths and stared out the window. If only she hadn’t been so
quick to get away
from Everett’s pesky questions. She straightened her shirtwaist and then gathered
the cups. Overreacting. Ned was unpleasant, yes, but surely he’d try nothing with
a married woman.

“You don’t have to be so anxious for your man to come back. I know you ain’t much
to him.” He chuckled low and rumbly. “’Course, wouldn’t suspect no man really matters
to you.”

She turned, eyes narrowed, and her short breaths returned. “What?”

Ned shrugged and leaned farther back. “Same as me—he needed a wife to handle chores.”
He tipped his head toward the bedding made neatly in the corner. “Nothing else.”

She colored. She needed to put that makeshift bed away in the mornings. Her hand tightened
around the spare skillet.

“But as for me, I don’t get why that’s all he wants you for.” He stood and sauntered
over to the stove. “Why’d you come running to Kansas to marry up with a no-account
farmer?”

His unwavering gaze pierced hers. She had to take a step back. The tilt of his eyebrows
made her heart stab her chest.

“There’s only so many reasons a lady runs off to marry a stranger.” He tilted his
head. “One, she ain’t nothing to look at, but we know that ain’t your reason.”

“My reasons are none of your business.” Julia stepped to the other side of the stove
to grab the tea canister, but knocked it over. “If you don’t mind returning to your
seat, I could keep track of what I’m doing.”

“Or she don’t got no money.” He reached out to finger the lace on her shoulder. “Appears
to me Daddy had plenty of money.”

She stepped back, pulling her shirt from his grasp. “I’ve had enough of your surmising—”

“So that leaves me to thinking you’re running from what you was.” His gaze never left
hers, like he was trying to dig out her past from the depth of her soul.

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Where could she run? She’d married Everett
to protect her from this! Where was he? “You’re wrong, Mr. Parker.”

“Then tell me why you’re here.” He flicked her chin up toward him, his face dark.
“And why you’re trembling like a trapped kitten.”

She poured the hot water into two tin cups and dumped in the tea. She set his drink
down at the narrow end of the table. “Your tea’s ready.” If she let on that his deductions
were near correct, he’d use it to his advantage, so she threw back her shoulders and
stared him down.

He let a slow smile creep across his face before he returned to his seat. He lowered
himself into the chair and leaned back.

She sat across from him and pushed away from the table. She could still reach her
cup, though she knew she’d have difficulty drinking any of it. Everett’s name played
over and over in her head—like her soul was beckoning him to her side. He was twice
the size of Ned and better built. Everett would fight for her.

Ned took a sip and smirked. She knew that look. “Mmm-mmm. Tastes mighty fine.”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and put the cup to her mouth, but couldn’t make
herself taste it. Every inch of her being told her to run, but where would she go
that he couldn’t follow? She needed to keep her distance and convince him to leave
on his own.

Minutes ticked by as Ned’s perusal unnerved her. “Your kind of woman doesn’t belong
out here on the prairie as the wife to one man.”

She focused on keeping her breathing regular. Could he really be able to guess what
had made her run? No, he couldn’t have gotten information about her from back east.
But then, she’d not assumed a false name or kept her hometown a secret. No, he was
only playing some cruel guessing game. Well, she wasn’t going to participate.

He leaned across the table and waited until she met his eyes. “Just like Everett said,
you don’t belong with him. He regrets marrying you. Especially with the games you’re
playing.” Again he glanced at the pallet on the floor.

Her chest moved with the rapid emptying and filling of her lungs despite her efforts
to take slow, deep breaths. “Everett wouldn’t have talked to you about any such thing.”

He shrugged and sipped his tea, watching her over the brim as he drank.

She stifled an all-over body shiver. Could it be true? Ned had spent a lot of time
with Everett soon after their wedding day with the coyote tanning. Would Everett say
such a thing out loud? She fingered the tablecloth, feeling its fine embroidery. The
same cloth she’d pulled out from the woman’s trunk stowed under Everett’s bed. He’d
never given her any explanation for the items she had pulled out and displayed around
the cabin. Then Rachel had told her about her sister, and Kathleen assumed Carl was
jealous of Everett. Could he be regretting being tied to one woman—especially a woman
who wasn’t giving him any favors?

She didn’t know Everett at all. He’d shared nothing about himself. But he wasn’t that
kind of man. He found her desirable, but the look in his eye was nothing like Ned’s
or Theodore’s . . . or was it just different? Unsure of his true character, she had
trusted Rachel wouldn’t set her up with an indecent man. But what if her friend had
been wrong?

But then, she’d shared none of her past with Everett. Maybe he’d done some checking
of his own. Would her father inform him about what had happened if Everett asked?
Did the whole town of Boston gossip about her as if she were a loose woman?

Her chair scraped the floor when she shot out of her seat. What she did know was she
didn’t want to hear any more from Ned. “I find this to be an inappropriate conversation.
I think you ought to head outdoors.”

Ned took a slow sip from his cup and watched her. “Just thought I’d tell you, figuring
it has to do with you. Might help you make decisions. But to tell the truth, I agree
with him. You don’t belong on the prairie.” He stood and walked around the table.

She put the chair between them before he reached her. She gripped the back of the
chair with sweaty palms. “Well, I for one don’t need you to tell me where I do or
do not belong.”

“It’s too bad you ended up with Everett. You could have had so much more. A man who
wanted you . . . in spite of what you are.” Ned’s eyes flashed.

“I think you’ve said enough, Mr. Parker.” Her heart thumped erratically in her throat.
Would that she had trusted her instincts and not offered him tea! She searched for
anything heavy in sight, but nothing but the chair was available to keep him away.
Could she make it past him to grab a heavy pot before he blocked her? “Maybe you ought
to go check on that plow.” Despite trying to keep her voice steady, it wavered.

“You could be mistress to a man who knows how to handle you. How to keep a woman of
your—” he licked his lips, and his voice dropped—“talents happy.” He leaned forward.

She stepped back and hit the wall, glaring at him as hard
as she could. He stood in the pathway to the door, and even if she could dodge around
him, her short legs would be no match for his long ones in a race.

He took his time perusing her body. “You’re no innocent angel, are you?” His breaths
were heavy and slow.

She glanced toward the pot of boiled water, and Ned moved sideways. He’d catch her
if she ran that way as well.
God, could you make Everett come home?
“I will pretend that I don’t understand what you are insinuating. Leave now and—”

“You don’t defend yourself.” His smile widened. “I thought so.” He leaned over and
clasped onto her jaw. “Before God, can you deny it?”

Her teeth were clamped so hard her head ached. “Unhand me.” Her breathless words quavered
in the space between them. But the sound of tears in the back of her throat couldn’t
be masked. Would that God would send Everett to her!

Ned reached out and grabbed both of her wrists and yanked her forward. The top of
the chair between them wedged into his chest. The legs of the chair slipped to each
side of her legs. He pushed both her and the chair against the wall. “It’s not right
to keep a woman with your gifts for one man who won’t even use you. But I’m”—he leaned
over to put his hot breath next to her ear—“going to get what I want. One way or another.”

The shiver in her body couldn’t escape the confines of her flesh and grew more violent
until her whole body shook. Trapped. How could this happen again?

“No,” she snarled, but her command didn’t change the look in his eyes. His grip tightened.

Tears threatened to crowd her vision, but she blinked heavily, needing to see. Perchance
something would materialize to help her out of this situation. But nothing had nine
months ago. Why would this time be any different? Her throat clogged. There was no
way out.

The chair.

He would need to move the chair before he could grab more of her. This cage was good,
but soon he’d remove that obstacle. Unless she did it first.

Her breathing labored. If she tried to use it as a weapon, she might be throwing away
the one thing keeping her safe. Everett could be just around the corner. But if he
wasn’t, the chair wouldn’t deter Ned for long.

Growling, she collected her quivering strength and shoved the chair into his stomach.
He stumbled back, but the force wasn’t enough to push him far. She hooked her foot
around his ankle and yanked, taking advantage of his poor balance. He fell on his
rump and cursed.

He threw the chair to the side, let out a disturbing laugh, and jerked her foot out
from under her before she could run past. She hit the floor.