Redemption's Edge (46 page)

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Authors: Shirleen Davies

BOOK: Redemption's Edge
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Dax glared at his brother, already feeling his body tense at the thought of trying to impress Rachel. In the past, he’d always been himself, dressed the way he always did, and didn’t go to any extremes to garner her attention. How everything had changed. The woman he loved had placed an advertisement for a mail order husband in Big Pine, and possibly in other cities, as well.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, wishing for the hundredth time he’d told her straight out he loved her. What had he been thinking? She’d been open with him about her love. Why hadn’t he been able to do the same? Well, now he was paying for it.

“Do you need me to get Hannibal ready?” Luke’s playful attitude had sobered. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him Rachel could’ve moved on, dismissed Dax, and made up her mind he wasn’t the man for her. He could see the tension build in his brother. Luke had never been in love, and if this was what he had to look forward to, perhaps it would be best if he simply stayed as far away from it as possible.

Dax looked in the mirror once more, then turned toward Luke. “Thanks, but Hannibal’s ready.” He grabbed coins and bills from his dresser, settled his hat, and started for the stairs. “Guess it’s time to get going.”

Luke followed him downstairs and outside, watching as he mounted his horse.

“I’ll be at the saloon with Bull and some others if you have a mind to stop by later.” Luke held a hand out to Dax. “Good luck, brother.”

Dax shook his hand, touched a finger to the edge of his hat, and rode off, preparing himself to face whatever Rachel decided.

“Let me understand this. You’ve never met the man, yet he’s riding from some ranch hours away to take you to supper?” Charles watched Rachel pace back and forth across their front room, wringing an embroidered handkerchief between her hands, occasionally peeking out the curtain.

“Yes, that’s correct.” She knew her uncle deserved an explanation, but now wasn’t the time.

“You do know his name, right?”

“Of course. It’s Cole Brockman.”

“Anyone in Splendor ever hear of him?” Charles didn’t like the situation. His only comfort was knowing there was just one place Brockman could take his niece for supper—Suzanne Briar’s restaurant.

“I didn’t ask.” She glanced at her uncle, then back at her hands, which twisted the poor fabric until it formed a knot. She’d selected her most beautiful gown, the one everyone in Boston complimented when she wore it in the past. Who knew what he’d think of it, though. At least it set off her auburn hair and green eyes. No one in Splendor wore anything as fancy and she began to doubt her selection. Should she run back into her room and change into her blue day dress?

“Rachel, I believe I hear someone walking toward the house.” Her uncle tried to remain calm. This wasn’t what he’d anticipated when Rachel had told him a gentleman would be calling on her tonight.

She froze in place, took a deep breath, and waited.

Dax stood outside, ready to knock, but his arm stopped in midair. What if she refused to go to supper once she realized who’d answered the ad? Luke’s idea seemed good at the time. Now all Dax could feel was doubt. He’d led hundreds of men into battle over and over again, but somehow, he was having trouble mustering the courage to face one woman. The thought galled him. The confidence he’d carried his entire life seemed to have deserted him and he didn’t like it. Not one damn bit.

He checked his pocket watch once more, removed his hat, and took a breath. He raised his hand and rapped three times, then stepped back.

Rachel’s courage left her at the sound. What had she been thinking, advertising for a husband? She must have been mad.

“Do you want me to get it?” Charles began to push from his chair.

“No. I’ll get it.” She swallowed the huge lump in her throat. Her heart thumped so fast, she had to place a hand over it to try and calm the pace.

Six steps. That’s all it took to reach the door and place her hand on the knob.

The rapping sound occurred again and she jumped. She glanced over her shoulder at her uncle, whose expression had turned from concern to amusement, and rallied herself. This behavior couldn’t continue. She stepped right back up to the door, grabbed the handle, pulled, and let out a shriek at who stood in front of her.

Rachel realized she’d placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her startled reaction. She dropped her hand and glared at Dax. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here, not now. I have a gentleman caller arriving any minute.” Her agitated words poured out, and all he did was continue to stare, the broadest smile she’d ever seen from him flashing back at her.

Dax let her flounder a few seconds before his expression sobered and he stepped forward. “I’m Cole Brockman. I’ve come to take Miss Rachel Davenport to supper.” He watched as her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. She tried to respond, without success. He’d never seen her so discomfited.

“Cole Brockman?” she stammered as she took in the sight of him. My God, he truly was the finest looking man she’d ever seen. And those lips. She could almost feel them on hers and shivered at the thought.

“Yes, ma’am. We communicated by telegram. You are Miss Davenport, right?” He found he enjoyed the role he’d assumed and Rachel’s utter shock at him standing there.

Finding her composure, she squared her shoulders and pulled herself erect, settling her gaze on his. “You know who I am Dax, and I know perfectly well you are
not
Cole Brockman.”

“I most certainly am Cole Brockman, and I answered your advertisement for a mail order husband.”

Rachel could hear her uncle clear his throat and cough from across the room.

“This is the posting you placed in Big Pine, correct?” Dax slid a hand into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of newsprint.

She broke her gaze long enough to see the advertisement in his hand. She reached out to snatch it from him, but he was too quick. “Oh, no. I’m hanging onto this.” He slid it back into his pocket. “Did you also place it in other cities?”

“That’s none of your business.” She felt her face heat. “Who is the real Cole Brockman and where is he?” She had her hands fisted at her sides, sparks coming from her eyes as she tried to look around him.

“Well, the fact is, my full name is Dax Cole Brockman Pelletier. A southern tradition, I’m afraid. Brockman was my mother’s maiden name. So, you see, you got exactly what was promised.” He took in the look of utter astonishment on her face and worked to control the amusement he felt. Somehow, he knew she hadn’t begun to accept the humor in their situation.

He could see the instant she began to put all the pieces together.

“You were in Big Pine and saw the post?” Her voice still held an edge, even though the tone had softened.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Embarrassment and humiliation washed over her. She buried her face in her hands and started to stumble backwards before a strong hand grasped her arm.

“It’s going to be all right, Rachel. Have supper with me. Please.” His gentle, deep voice washed over her and she began to relax.

She let her hands drop from her face and slowly lifted her gaze to his. Rachel could see no mockery or humor, only a plea to spend time with him. She nodded, unable to get her voice to work over the emotions surging through her.

Dax looked past her to Charles and nodded. Her uncle winked in return and offered a broad smile.

They strolled at a slow pace to Suzanne’s, Rachel’s hand tucked firm under Dax’s right arm, his left hand resting on top. Neither spoke as they made the short walk.

All eyes turned their way as Suzanne showed them to a table. It had been set up in a back corner, candles and wildflowers adorning the tablecloth. Rachel knew Dax had been the one behind the request. He pulled out her chair and, instead of taking a seat across from her, he took the one to her left, giving them more privacy from the other diners. Still, neither spoke.

Suzanne poured glasses of wine and set the bottle on the table before serving their suppers.

“Everything looks wonderful.” Rachel stared down at her plate, still avoiding eye contact with Dax. The embarrassment at his knowledge of the advertisement had subsided somewhat, although she still felt her face warm knowing he’d discovered her intentions.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?” Dax hadn’t taken his eyes from her since the moment they’d started toward the restaurant.

“Why, no, I don’t believe you have.” Her eyes sparkled as the corners of her mouth tilted up.

“I should tell you every day because it’s true.” He dragged his gaze away long enough to eat a few bites of his supper. He set down his silverware and sat back in his chair, making a decision to say something before he lost his nerve. “You told me once you loved me. Do you still feel the same?”

Rachel stopped with her fork midway to her mouth. She hadn’t expected him to come right out and ask. “Yes, I still love you.” She set her fork down and folded her hands in her lap, clasping her fingers tight and wondering where the conversation was going.

“Then why place the advertisement after I told you I’d decided to stay?”

She took a breath, exhaling slowly. “There seemed to be something missing from your announcement.” Her voice wasn’t much above a whisper.

“Such as I’m in love with you?” His voice thrummed through her as he placed a hand on top of hers. “I do love you, Rachel. I’ve know it for a long time.”

She couldn’t speak, certain that if she did, she’d make a complete fool of herself.

“Come on. Let’s take a walk. I’ll ask Suzanne to hold our dessert for another night.”

The summer night air felt warmer than usual, yet Dax settled his arm around her and pulled her close. They walked away from the restaurant and past the school across from the livery.

Dax bent down to place a kiss below her ear. “No more advertisements, right?” he whispered as he pulled her around to face him and his mouth claimed hers.

She could smell the unique scent of him—soap and leather and a muskiness which excited her. She clung to his shoulders as his mouth trailed kisses down her neck, then up to the sensitive spot behind her ear. His lips traveled a slow, sure path along her jaw before claiming her mouth again in a kiss that sent waves of heat scorching through her. She moaned when his hands splayed across her back, drawing her tight against him.

He moved a hand from her back to the swell of her hip, letting his other hand rest at the back of her head, holding her in place. He couldn’t get enough of her. She was in his blood, had become a part of him.

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