Mail-Order Groom (9 page)

Grudgingly Mose examined him. “That's what she said
about you, when she took you in. That your troubles were hers now.”

“She was right,” Adam confirmed. “I'm here for the long haul.”
He was?
He couldn't be. But the statement
felt
true. Adam stood his ground. “So rather than waste your time warning me, why don't you tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help.”

Maybe I can find my way out of this lie, while I'm at it.

“Maybe you could help,” Mose said. “If I trusted you. But I don't.”

The man's stubbornness aggravated him. “In time, you will.”

“Can't think how.”

“Savannah trusts me,” Adam pointed out.

At his mention of her, Mose's doubtful gaze shifted from Adam's face to the station building. Inside, Savannah could be heard cheerfully humming as, presumably, she gathered materials for their nuptial trip.
We'll leave in an hour
.

“She don't trust you as much as you think,” Mose disagreed.

Adam recalled the way he'd longed for Savannah to let him call her by her given name. She hadn't. He knew that meant Mose was right. But what mattered most was Savannah's safety.

“I need to know what's been going on. I can help.”

“The only way you can help is by getting on down the road.” Mose gazed at the pathway as it wound between the scrub oak and pines, headed up the mountainside. “And by making Savannah your wife in truth, 'stead of a lie. I don't like letting you leave with her. But it's what she wants, and it's a foolish man who denies Savannah her wishes. You'll find out that soon enough.”

“If I forget,” Adam said, “just give me a stage signal.”

Startled, Mose stared at him.

Adam gazed back with equanimity. One of the occupations he
hadn't
claimed during his discussion with Savannah had been working backstage at a vaudeville house. But he'd done it.

During that time, he'd learned a few things about stage directions. He hadn't expected to encounter them again at a backwater telegraph station in the middle of nowhere.

“Why do you reckon,” he asked Mose, “a telegraph operator like Savannah understands professional stage signals?”

“You must have misunderstood.” Gruffly Mose shouldered past him. “I'd better go man the wires. Have a safe journey.”

Without further discussion, the station helper strode off. The ramshackle door slammed behind him. Through the window, Adam spied Mose again, this time with his head bent next to Savannah's. She started, then looked up through the window.

Her worried gaze met Adam's. She bit her lip.

Her gesture was all the confirmation he needed. Savannah Reed was definitely hiding something—something he should have unearthed while preparing his case against Roy Bedell, but hadn't. After almost a year of tracking the man alongside Mariana, Adam had been too concerned with stopping the bastard to give much thought to the background of his latest victim.

He'd known Savannah Reed had had a sizable nest egg, Adam reflected as he considered his “fiancée's” distant conversation with her hired man. He'd known she was new to the Arizona Territory. He'd known she was vulnerable and in danger. Those had been all the details Adam had needed to ride to her rescue.

By the time he'd reached her, he'd known he was smitten with her, too. That only complicated matters all the more.

He'd thought Savannah Reed was an innocent. Now it seemed that, maybe, she wasn't. That complicated matters, too.

But it didn't change them. For a long time now, Adam had carried a grainy, creased and folded photograph next to his heart—and he'd vowed to protect the woman pictured in it. Watching that woman now, he knew he would keep the vow he'd made. No matter what he'd have to risk to do so.

 

Savannah prepared for their journey with astonishing speed. Bustling to and fro from the station building to the rickety waiting wagon, she carried out bundles and blankets. With her golden hair escaping from its knot in curly tendrils, she labored to pack wax paper-wrapped sandwiches, a canteen of water, small green apples and a burlap sack of oats.

“For Chester,” she explained as she tossed the sack onto the wagon's bench seat, then checked the brake. “The horse.”

“Ah.” Watching her with a smile he felt scarcely able to hide, Adam made himself offer a somber nod. “Of course.”

“He deserves a special treat.” Savannah didn't look at him as she pinned on a wide-brimmed hat with a pretty ribbon trim. “I'm afraid it's a bit of a pull to Avalanche.”

“Why not just go to Morrow Creek?” Adam gestured down the mountain. “It's a sight closer, and probably not so steep.”

“I've already made arrangements with the minister in Avalanche.” Glowing with exertion, Savannah pitched her
self onto the seat beside him. She squeezed his hand. “He's expecting us.”

That was probably true, Adam realized as he examined her bright profile. But she was still hiding something from him. Every instinct he had told him she was deceiving him.

Had she had an encounter with the Bedells, he wondered as he recalled his conversation with Mose, and wanted to hide it? Or was the trouble that Savannah faced something else entirely?

As though summoned by Adam's thoughts, Mose appeared beside the wagon, his expression grave. He handed Savannah a package.

“Don't open this until afterward,” the big man warned. His gaze shifted ominously to Adam, then returned to Savannah. Mose smiled as he patted the package's brown paper wrapping. “I'll know if you tear into this, so no cheating now, you hear?”

“Mose!” Savannah marveled at him. “What's this?”

“Just a tiny wedding gift. Practically useless, so don't go getting your hopes up. I'm an old man without much money, so—”

“Oh! This is so sweet of you.” Lunging sideways, Savannah wrapped her arms around his neck. She sniffled. After a moment, she leaned back again, gazing into Mose's face. “Thank you. I wish you were coming with us. It won't be the same without you.”

“I know.” Mose looked up at Savannah, his face swamped with unabashed affection. To Adam's gaze, the man appeared downright fatherly…and choked up near to the point of tears, too.

Feeling like an intruder, Adam stared pointedly in the other direction. But he felt happy, all of a sudden, that Savannah had someone in her life who truly did love and
care about her. Someone who was not deceiving her in any way.

“But I'll be there in spirit,” Mose said gruffly. “And I'll be waiting right here when you get back. So don't dawdle.”

“We won't,” Savannah promised with another hug. Keeping her arms around Mose's thick neck, she spoke in his ear. “Try not to look so worried. This is what I want most, remember?”

Her words weren't meant for Adam, but he heard them—and they jabbed at his heart, all the same. If Savannah wanted love, he had that to spare—if she would take it from a traveling man like him…a man who had experienced exactly three days' worth of down-home living in all his adult life, and those at Savannah's caring hands. But right now, he did not have the truth to give her, and he didn't know when he would. That still bothered him.

Maybe on the journey, Adam thought, he would find a way to explain about Bedell. Maybe he would finally set things right.

Mose jerked his head in a brusque nod. “I know it is.”

“All right then.” Savannah sniffled again, then gave an awkward laugh. She picked up the leather traces in her gloved hands, seeming surprisingly at ease with the task. “I guess we're off.”

At her direction, the horse set in motion. Adam swayed and braced himself on the bench seat, uncomfortably aware of Savannah's wobbling chin and the tears brimming in her eyes.

“Mose will be all right without you,” he assured her in his gentlest tone. “We won't be gone long. He'll get by.”

“I know.” Savannah nodded. “He'll be fine.”

But an instant later, it appeared they were both wrong. Mose jogged along behind the wagon. He shouted something.

Savannah jerked the reins, and Mose caught up.

“There's one more thing I forgot to tell you.” Panting, he placed his hand over his heart. Then he gestured in the other direction, toward Morrow Creek. “Don't stay more than overnight in Avalanche. Mrs. Finney is expecting you in town on Friday.”

“Mrs. Finney is expecting me?” Savannah asked.

They were staying overnight?
Adam swallowed hard. He had to admit the truth to Savannah, else ruin her reputation for good.

But his imagination offered up a contrary vision—a vision involving Savannah and himself, newly married and eager to celebrate their union. If only that could be real. Adam knew he could make her happy. He could make her sigh with pleasure, too. He could begin with another kiss, move on to a slow caress….

Caught up in the notion, Adam gazed at the smooth skin at the back of Savannah's neck. If he kissed her there, then undid that row of tiny buttons along the back of her dress, he could make both of them feel happy about their marriage…however false it might be. He could make it
feel
real to both of them.

He'd never in his life wanted anything more.

Oblivious to his reverie, Mose nodded. “She wants to give you and Mr. Corwin a tea party to welcome you to Morrow Creek.”

“A
tea party?
” Savannah sounded aghast. “For us?”

“That's right.” Mose nodded. “To welcome you to town. When Mrs. Finney left, she told me she was going to alert the entire Ladies Auxiliary Club so they could turn out to the party.”

“But I've been living nearby for months!” Savannah stared in displeasure at Chester's twitching, horsey ears.
“Nobody cared to give me a tea party in all that time, now did they?”

“Well, you
were
trying to pass by mostly unnoticed.”

“Yes,” Savannah mused. “I suppose that's true.”

That piqued Adam's interest. “Mostly unnoticed? Why?”

Savannah and Mose stared at him. Then they looked at each other. “'Nuff chitchat. Have a safe journey!” Mose shouted.

Then he smacked their horse on its rump and sent the wagon jostling down the open road, away from the station…and away from whatever certainty Adam had that he was doing the right thing by coming to Savannah Reed's rescue.

And especially by lying to her to do it.

Still, one niggling thought remained as Adam bounced along beside Savannah, headed toward a wedding he'd never expected to find himself involved in, in a town he'd never been to.

Exactly
why
had Savannah been trying to pass by mostly unnoticed in Morrow Creek? And why did marrying
him
somehow set it right?

T
he only thing more awkward than marrying a man she'd only just met, Savannah realized as she guided Chester uphill during the first hour of her nuptial journey to Avalanche, was making the trip to the wedding itself. She and Adam had scarcely said a word since they'd left the telegraph station. That had been some distance ago. Now the silence was beginning to concern her.

If this was the manner in which they communicated now, before they'd even exchanged vows, what would their lives be like a few weeks or months or years hence? The question set her jaw in motion, even before she could remember to be cautious.

“It's a fine day, isn't it?” she ventured.

In demonstration, she gestured with her gloved hand. The sunshine fell through the trees as they passed, lighting the area with a cheery glow. Birds twittered in the underbrush. Flies pestered Chester, who flicked them with his tail. The wagon swayed and creaked, continuing on its path to her future.

Her future as Mrs. Adam Corwin, never again to be referred to or thought of or pitied or scorned as a “Ruthless Reed.”

“Yes,” Adam offered tightly. “A fine day.”

As he had for the past several hills and valleys, he sat beside her with his long, powerful legs braced on the wagon. He gazed at the area beyond the roadside, clearly preoccupied.

“What are you thinking about?” Savannah asked.

“Nothing.”

She laughed. “Of course you're thinking about
something
.”

In reply, he compressed his mouth but remained silent. The taut lines of his upper body bespoke alertness. His shoulders appeared as tight as the bandages she'd secured before starting out on their trip. His arms were held braced at his sides.

Even Mose never appeared
this
watchful when they were out.

But then the truth occurred to Savannah. She nearly sighed with relief. “You're looking out for desperados, aren't you?”

Adam blinked, clearly surprised. “Have you seen someone?” His gaze looked intent. “Has someone threatened you?”

She laughed again. “Of course not! I've been telling you the truth—those Wild West tales are exaggerations. You don't have to protect me from any desperados, real or imaginary.”

“They're real, all right.” Adam gritted his teeth. He swayed on the wagon seat beside her with surprising balance and agility. Apparently he was stronger and more on the mend than she'd thought. “But if they come after you, they'll be sorry.”

His words were little more than a muttered threat. They sounded sincere, though, and his protectiveness—however unneeded—made her smile. She was fortunate that Adam Corwin was a brave and kind man. Although he
did
deserve better than to be misled into marrying The Seductive Sensation without knowing it.

Guiltily Savannah bit her lip. It hadn't occurred to her how unfair she was being. Adam deserved to know the truth about her past—to know, without a doubt, what he was getting into. Maybe he would even accept her as she was—her life on the stage, her ne'er-do-well parents, and her dancing included. That was what she would have loved most of all. In a little while, it would be too late to have an honest beginning between them.

Thinking of that, she cast a nervous glance at him. “You know, it's fortunate we have this time together,” she began, searching for a way to broach her past. “There are probably a great many things you'd like to know about me. For instance—”

“Stop here.”

“What?” Confused, Savannah frowned at him. “Why?”

“Someone is following us.”

She tried to turn around. Adam pushed his shoulder near hers to prevent her from doing so, then took control of the reins. With his free hand, he flipped back his suit coat—freshly laundered and newly mended at her own hands—then settled his palm over something. Something on his hip. Something blunt and steely, holstered in battered leather and ready for firing.

“You're wearing your gun belt!” she blurted, gawking at how oddly appropriate it seemed on his person. “And your gun!”

“Keep your voice down.” Grim-faced, Adam pulled Chester to a mane-tossing halt. He gestured to Savannah.
“I want you to get down here beside me. Get yourself hidden behind the wagon seat as much as you can. Cover your head.” His gaze fixed itself on something in the trees behind them. “Now.”

Spooked by the raw urgency in his voice, Savannah felt gooseflesh prickle over her arms. The day, formerly so sunny and bright, suddenly felt chilly and unreal.

But surely Adam was only being his usual cautious self. Surely nothing was really wrong…was it?

“Don't be silly!” she said. “I realize that being attacked and robbed on your first day here might have left you a little wary, but I promise you, I've traveled all over this road and—”

“Down.” With his hand firm on her hat, Adam lowered her to her knees. He moved near her, shielding her with his body. Attentiveness emanated from him. “Stay quiet.”

Affronted and baffled by his behavior, Savannah opened her mouth to protest. Then she heard it—the faint
clip-clop
of hooves against packed earth, then the jingling of tack and spurs. Someone
was
behind them. Warily she hunched against the wagon, trying to make herself disappear behind the bench seat.

Unconcerned by their plight, birds twittered nearby. A fly buzzed past Savannah's ear. Her skin dampened with sweat, making her dress stick uncomfortably to her back. From her position, all she could see were a slice of blue sky and Adam's tense frame, poised in front of her while he examined the traces.

Holding her breath, Savannah waited. The horse and rider neared their wagon, sending up dust in their wake. She smelled it in the air. Saddle leather creaked. The hoofbeats slowed.

“'Afternoon,” the rider said.

Adam gave a curt nod, his hand still on his gun belt.

Savannah craned her neck. From beyond Adam's braced legs, she glimpsed a dappled mare. Its lone rider wore battered britches and an unmatched suit coat. The man spotted her. A wide, unhygienic smile split his face. He tipped his hat at her.

Startled and strangely fearful of his gesture, she looked away. Then she glanced back just as hastily, berating herself for being rude. Surely the polite thing to do would be to smile or greet him or offer an explanation for why she was crouched so peculiarly in her wagon…but then her gaze fell to Adam's calf. She recognized the faint outline of his knife.

A chill moved through her. In that moment, Savannah felt bizarrely convinced that Adam was
not
pretending to be a rough and ready Wild West adventurer. In that moment, he truly seemed to be the “bad man” he'd warned her about on the day they'd met.

His forbidding expression did nothing to diminish that impression. With his gaze pointed and his hand still ready on his gun belt, Adam examined the wooded hillside surrounding them. The rider passed by them without incident, but clearly Adam had expected…something more to happen. His whole body radiated guardedness.

Whatever he was looking for, he didn't find it. After a few long seconds, he gestured for her to get up.

Awkwardly Savannah did. She brushed off her skirts, noticing as she did that the lone rider was still visible, far ahead of them now and showing no signs of slowing down.

“See? There's no need to be alarmed.” She pointed to him. “He's just another traveler. I didn't even recognize him.”

To her surprise, Adam did. “It's Curtis Bedell.”

“A friend of yours? All the way out here?” She laughed.

Adam remained sober. He gazed at her intently, too.

Savannah didn't know what he was looking for. But then she realized that Adam couldn't possibly be serious. “Curtis Bedell” probably didn't even exist. Adam must have invented the name in an attempt to justify their situation. Undoubtedly he felt embarrassed to have been so overzealous about protecting her—from a harmless, if untidy, passerby, at that.

“Hmm. Seeing someone you're acquainted with all the way out here? I guess that must truly be serendipity in action.”

“Yes.” A pause. Adam frowned. “Something like that.”

Gazing at his taut face, Savannah yearned to ease his discomfort. She knew what it felt like to be on the outside of a situation—to be guilty of trying too hard to fit in someplace new. She knew that her Baltimore-based, telegraph operator husband-to-be must feel out of place here in the Territory.

“Well then. Serendipity or not, if you know him, maybe we should invite Mr. Bedell to the wedding,” she joked.

Adam shook his head. “I'd sooner bring a rattlesnake to a christening.” His gaze sharpened as it followed the man down the road. Then Adam looked at her, and his face softened. “Go on now. Take your seat.” He helped her into his former position on the wagon bench, then assumed her place at the reins. “You don't mean to keep a man waiting all day for his own wedding, do you?”

He smiled at her then, but something about Adam's demeanor bothered her. Trying to figure it out, Savannah hesitated. She had the oddest feeling that something important had just taken place…but she'd be jiggered if she could guess what it was.

Surely Adam didn't
truly
know Curtis Bedell?

If he did, she reckoned as she glanced sideways and caught Adam peering down the road after that lone rider again, he did not like the man. Not even the tiniest bit.

Despite Adam's peculiar behavior, though, Savannah had to keep her priorities in mind. Getting herself properly wed to her mail-order groom lay at the top of the list. “Absolutely not!” she assured him. “There'll be no delays from me. The sooner we're married, the better.”

Given his unusual behavior, Savannah decided, maybe she should wait just a
little
while longer to explain about being The Seductive Sensation. Just to be properly circumspect….

 

Standing inside the minister's small house, Adam paced as he waited for the wedding ceremony to begin. The minister's wife had gone to secure two witnesses, leaving him alone with his impatience—and his reluctance to leave Savannah unguarded.

Casting a careful glance outside the sitting-room window, Adam caught a crooked-looking glimpse of the town outside. To his relief, nothing seemed amiss. Wherever Curtis Bedell had gone to, he wasn't in sight any longer. All Adam saw out the window was the small mining town of Avalanche, perched on the rocky hillside and hugging the mountain like a stout billy goat. Some of the houses and businesses bore stilts to help them balance against the rocks; others simply stood akilter. In the distance, the tall shaft of the Daisy mine stood visible along the skyline, cutting into the jagged blue sky with impunity.

Despite Adam's expectations, no lone riders waited along that skyline. No Bedell brothers lurked at the edge of the tumbled boulders or sighted their rifles at the minister's modest house. But that didn't mean Adam could let down
his guard. Seeing Curtis Bedell on their trail had spooked him considerably. For the first time since he'd awakened at the telegraph station, he agreed wholeheartedly with Savannah.

The sooner they were married, the better.

He couldn't reason out why Curtis Bedell had simply been following them, though. Especially alone. The Bedells usually traveled in a pack, with Roy at its mangy head.

The fact that Curtis was on his own left Adam feeling uneasy. Clearly the gang hadn't yet given up on stealing Savannah's nest egg for themselves. But their usual manner of operation—with Roy Bedell calling the shots and his brothers dropping predictably in line behind him—appeared to have fallen by the wayside. Now there was no telling how far the brothers would go to get the money they wanted. If Adam hadn't been there when Curtis had intersected Savannah's path to Avalanche…

Shuddering, Adam shut his mind to the thought. He
had
been there. That was all that mattered. That, and keeping her safe.

To that end, Adam strode to the single door punctuating the sitting room wall. He hesitated, then rapped firmly on it.

“Savannah? Are you all right in there?”

“I'm fine!” Savannah yelled. “Don't come in!”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm positive. For the fourth time—I'm
still
just fine.”

She sounded amused and a little exasperated, but Adam couldn't take any chances. He leaned his head nearer, straining to hear. He imagined the Bedells sneaking into the room where Savannah had gone to change into her best dress, holding her at gunpoint, stealing her away from him. Beset with worry, he made a grim face. He shook his head. “Stand back. I'm coming in.”

“Oh, no, you're not!” The door rattled, undoubtedly because Savannah smacked both hands on it to hold it shut. That's what she'd done the other three times he'd inquired after her. “Stay put! It's bad luck for a groom to see his bride.”

Adam placed his hands on the door, too. Despite her objections, he seriously considered shoving it open. Seeing Curtis Bedell this morning had removed his doubts about the rightness of marrying Savannah, but it had not allayed his fears that she would somehow learn the truth and make him leave before he could protect her. He couldn't let that happen. He
had
to stay beside her.

But he didn't have to upset her. That's what barging in while she changed would do. Relenting for the moment, Adam spread his fingers, imagining that his palms touched the door in the same places that Savannah's did. He leaned his cheek against the door, feeling sappy as hell for doing so…but wholly unable to quit. He sighed. “All right. But I'm here if you need me.”

A moment passed. Then she said, “I know. Thank you, Adam. I'm more grateful than you can imagine, for everything you've done.”

Wistfully Adam closed his eyes. He'd never expected to find himself here. He knew he could love Savannah the way she deserved. But he didn't know if she could love him…afterward.