The Anonymous Bride (37 page)

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Authors: Vickie Mcdonough

Tags: #Religious, #Historical, #Mail Order Brides, #Fiction, #Western, #Christian, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Romance, #General, #Love Stories, #Christian Fiction, #Texas

BOOK: The Anonymous Bride
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“Gag her so she don’t make no noise.”

 

Rachel winced as the cloth cut between her teeth and pinched her cheek. Miss Payton tied a knot, pulling Rachel’s hair.

 

“Sorry,” the girl whispered.

 

Tyson slowly opened the door and peered out. He waved his gun at them. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the hall and found the other doors still closed. In the light of the hall lamp, she located the right key and unlocked the back door, taking one last glimpse at the hall she’d so carefully decorated to be pleasing to her guests. Would she ever see her home again? Or her daughter? Swallowing hard and forcing back the tears burning her eyes, she hurried down the dark stairs that wrapped around the back side of the house, praying Luke would find them.

 

Yet a part of her hoped he wouldn’t. She couldn’t bear if he got mortally wounded.

 

At the back of her lot, two horses were tied in the trees, out of sight of anyone who’d pass by. How had she and Luke missed them earlier when they were in the yard? Ty grabbed her waist and hoisted her onto one horse. “Get on behind her, sis.”

 

Miss Payton clawed her way up and managed to climb on behind her. “It wouldn’t have killed you to help me,” she hissed at her brother.

 

He took the reins of their horse and mounted his own. Tears she’d fought to keep at bay charged down Rachel’s cheeks. The light still glimmered in her bedroom, waiting for her return. She thought of her daughter sleeping there so peacefully. Would she ever see Jacqueline again?

***

 

Jack covered her head with her pillow to drive away the cheerful chirps from the birds welcoming the new day. If only she could sleep another hour. Bad dreams had pestered her all night. Dreams of Butch pulling her hair. Of him throwing her in the lake when she had her Sunday dress on. Dreams of her marrying him.

 

“Ick!”

 

She tossed the pillow aside at the disgusting thought.

 

Her body let her know that she’d get no more sleep until she visited the necessary. Sighing, she stood and stretched. She turned around and froze. Her mother’s side of the bed looked as if it had never been slept in. And the lamp still burned. How odd.

 

Now that she thought of it, no fragrant smells greeted her this morning or the familiar sound of her ma clattering in the kitchen. She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. Eight o’clock?

 

Jack hurried out the door and into the kitchen. She struggled to make sense of what she saw. First thing every morning, her ma cooked biscuits and made coffee. The kitchen looked just as clean as it had been last night before bed, while the coffeepot was as cold as a winter’s night.

 

She opened the back door and stuck her head out. “Ma?” When she got no response, she hurried to the necessary and ran back inside, racing from room to room downstairs but finding no sign of her mother. Where could she be? Had there been some emergency in town?

 

Jack raced to her bedroom and found her shirt and overalls. Once dressed, she ran upstairs and pounded on Miss Bennett’s door.

 

The woman opened it and scowled down. “Is breakfast ready? I haven’t smelled a thing this morning.”

 

“Have you seen Ma?”

 

“You mean today? Uh, no I haven’t. Why?”

 

Jack spun around and pounded on Miss O’Neil’s door. It fell open but the room was empty. Could her ma be somewhere talking with the Irish lady?

 

“Try the washroom,” Miss Bennett offered.

 

Jack jogged to the back of the second story, noting that Miss Blackstone’s door was open and the room also empty. Suddenly remembering the pastor’s sermon about being ready for the rapture, Jack halted. She thought about how much trouble she’d caused her mother. Was she such a heathen that the rapture had come and she’d been left behind?

 

Her heart pounded like the blacksmith’s hammer. The washroom door handle jiggled, and she looked up. Miss O’Neil came out, her face looking pink and freshly scrubbed. If Miss O’Neil was still here, Jack felt certain that the rapture hadn’t come. God might leave snooty Miss Bennett, but surely He’d have taken the kind Irish woman.

 

“Top o’ the mornin’ to you. Would it be breakfast time?” Miss O’Neil lifted her head and sniffed, and then her brows dipped down.

 

“Have you seen my ma?”

 

“Nay, I have not.”

 

Jack started to turn, but the back door caught her eye. “Did one of y’all unlock that door?”

 

Both brides shook their heads. “We don’t have the key,” Miss Bennett said.

 

Jack spun around, worry for her mother rising like the summer temperature. “Ma’s missing, and I’ve gotta find Luke.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 29

 

Luke scrubbed the sleep from his face in the warm river water. The whiskers on his jaw bristled as he ran his hand across his face. He hadn’t planned to be out all night, but after crying out to God and praying like he never had, he’d fallen dead asleep near the riverbank just before sunrise. He yawned. A few more hours rest would be nice, but he needed to check on the town, and then he had to see Rachel again.

 

Now that he’d wrestled with his unforgiving spirit and his guilt over what had happened, he was eager to see what God would do. The blinders on his eyes had been removed, and he saw things clearly for the first time in years. He stood and looked toward town. Excitement battled regret. Alamo nickered to him and walked away from the patch of grass where he’d been grazing.

 

Luke patted his faithful horse, bridled him, and mounted. He’d have to eat a lot of crow with Rachel, but she wasn’t one to hold a grudge. And if he wasn’t wrong, she still had feelings for him. He’d just spent the last few weeks denying them, but in his heart, he knew she still cared just as he did.

 

Last night, once he’d let go of his anger at James, he’d wallowed in guilt for an hour or two. Good thing he wasn’t a drinking man, because he wouldn’t have been sober for a week after he realized how he’d failed Rachel. Instead, he had to face the facts. He
was
responsible for what happened to her, but his intentions had been good. He was just trying to get enough money to get them a home so they could get married.

 

Then why did he still feel bad?

 

As he drew near the town, he surveyed the serene scene before him. The business folks were opening up their shops. The clink of a hammer could be heard coming from the livery, and fragrant scents from Polly’s Café filled the air, making his belly rumble.

 

The boardinghouse drew his gaze, and he hoped to see Rachel outside sweeping. But then at this hour, she was more likely cleaning up the breakfast mess. At least he knew there would be a plate of her fine cooking waiting for him.

 

The mayor walked out of Luke’s office, hands on his hips, and looked around. When his gaze latched onto Luke, he strode toward him. Dismounting, Luke met the mayor in the street. What could he want at this early hour?

 

“Jenny tells me you’re going to announce who you want to marry tonight. That right?”

 

Luke suppressed a chuckle. The mayor sure didn’t waste words on greetings. Luke nodded, but a twinge of uncertainty wiggled its way through his composure. Was he doing the right thing by making a public announcement? What if she turned him down flat? What if
she
refused to forgive
him?

 

“That’s right, I am.”

 

The mayor puffed up his chest. “What about the next contest?”

 

Luke searched his mind but drew a blank. “What contest? I thought the next thing was for me to have supper with each of the gals.”

 

Mayor Burke nodded. “So you can get to know them better. I was thinking maybe we should have the brides cook you something else since the pie contest didn’t turn out well.” He tapped his thick mustache as if considering the idea then studied Luke’s face. “How is it you already know which one you want?”

 

“I just do. And I need to get my announcement made so the other gals can make some plans. No sense leaving them hanging.”

 

“True, but I think we should wait until Saturday when most of the folks come to town. A lot of folks will be disappointed if you do it midweek.”

 

Luke shook his head. “Too late. I told Jenny yesterday to post an announcement in the paper. Knowing her, she’s probably already got them made up and ready to distribute.”

 

The mayor’s mustache twitched, and he leaned forward. “So ... which one is it?”

 

Luke should have expected this, but the mayor surprised him. “Surely you don’t expect me to tell you when I haven’t even told her?”

 

“I guess not.” He looked put off but shook his head. “Well, if we’re going to have the announcement tonight, I’ve got a lot to do. Have you seen Rachel today?”

 

“Not yet. I’m headed there now to get my breakfast.”

 

Mayor Burke walked toward the café. “Tell her I need to see her right away. I’ll be at Polly’s for the next half hour or so.”

 

Luke quirked his mouth. If the mayor wanted to see Rachel, he could go to her house. He tied Alamo to the hitching post outside the jail and glanced around. Few people were out this early. Birds chirped in the tree beside the jail, and the sun shone full in the cloudless sky, promising another scorching day. But this day was filled with hope. Hope for love. Hope for the future. Hope for a family. Luke couldn’t help grinning.

 

He whistled, and Max ambled out the jail door, wagging his tail. Luke stuck his head in his office to see if Jack had brought the scrap bucket yet, but it wasn’t there. Hmm. Where was that gal? She usually headed to see him first thing after breakfast.

 

He took Alamo to the livery, rubbed him down, and fed him before tending to himself. A man who didn’t take care of his animals first wasn’t worth much. Reaching down, he scratched Max’s ear. “Right, boy?”

 

As he neared the boardinghouse, Luke’s steps quickened. He had a lot to repent for, but for the first time in over a decade, he had a clear hope for the future—and that future included a pretty brunette with blue eyes as pale as—

 

The front door of the boardinghouse flew open, and Jack galloped out the door. She jumped off the porch and raced toward him. “Luke, help!”

 

What in the world? He burst into a run, stopping as she skidded to a halt in front of him. His gaze scanned the house for signs of trouble. “What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s Ma. She’s gone.”

 

Luke’s heart all but stopped. Was this just another of Jack’s tales? “What do you mean?”

 

“She never came to bed last night, and she hasn’t even started breakfast.”

 

Luke’s jaw tightened. What could have happened? She’d been fine when he last saw her. “Are there any signs of anything disturbed in the house?”

 

Jack shook her head, her unbound auburn hair swinging side to side. “No, except the back door upstairs was open—and Ma always keeps it locked to protect our guests.”

 

“All right. Calm down and let me have a look inside.”

 

“Where could she be? She never leaves without telling me where she’s going.” Jack’s deep blue eyes carried too much concern for a child. Max whined and stuck his head under her hand.

 

Luke pulled her to his side. “Don’t worry, half bit. I’ll find her.”

 

Of all the nights for him to be off licking his wounds.

 

What could have happened? Rachel was a very responsible person and mother. She’d never go off without her daughter or leave her guests to fend for themselves.

 

Jack pulled him through the house and into the kitchen. She waved her hand toward the empty room. “See. No food. She hasn’t even made coffee.”

 

Luke’s concerns mounted, knowing Rachel always did that first thing each morning. Jack yanked on his arm and dragged him to the bedroom. Luke stopped in the doorway, not wanting to intrude into Rachel’s most private area.

 

“See. Her side of the bed is still made, and her nightgown is still on its peg.” Jack pointed behind the door.

 

“Could she have made up her side of the bed and then gotten dressed?”

 

Jack shook her head. “No, we make it together right after breakfast most days.”

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. Something must have happened to Rachel after he left. But what? He hadn’t had any reports of trouble. Yeah, he was down at the river, but he would have heard any gunfire, and the mayor would have said something if there’d been any trouble. He forced himself to step into the room. He didn’t want to miss any evidence—if there was some.

 

“Miss Blackstone is gone, too.”

 

Luke spun around and stared at Jack. “What?”

 

“I noticed when I was upstairs looking for Ma that Miss Blackstone’s door was open and she wasn’t in her room. Do you think they could have gone somewhere? Did something happen in town last night?”

 

Luke shrugged, not willing to admit that he’d shirked his duty. He might have seen something suspicious if he had been working. Maybe Rachel had gone out to help a friend. His conscience told him she’d never leave Jack or her guests unless forced. He placed his hand on his pistol, not liking the thoughts chasing through his mind. “Show me Miss Blackstone’s room.”

 

He followed the child upstairs and first checked the back door. “No signs of forced entry. Whoever came or went this way must have had a key.”

 

“Ma’s got the only one. Keeps it on a ribbon in her apron pocket.”

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