The Bartered Bride (The Brides Book 3) (25 page)

And, most likely, a violent man when stirred.

Jem’s eyes rested thoughtfully on Gabe and something hard twisted in his stomach.

He knew his own.

This was a boy who knew what it was like to get a backhand when he was least expecting it.

Jem excused himself quickly, not entirely knowing what to say or do with himself. His own unpleasant memories hammered at him. A good long ride was what he needed now.

THIRTY-TWO

I
n the days that followed, Jem threw himself into learning as much as he could about the school for the deaf and mute in Colorado Springs. The only problem was whenever he brought up the subject with Annie, she’d give him what reminded him of a doll’s painted-on smile. And, before he knew it, she’d be busy with some other task around the house.

In less than a week from the first time he’d learned about the school, Jem had a plan in place. He planned to share the news with Annie, but decided to wait until after he’d read Mae a storybook and he and Annie had tucked her in together, as had become their custom. Sugar stayed as close as could be on the rug beside Mae’s bed. The puppy seemed more of a dog than a puppy these days, near full-grown, at least in size. She abruptly flopped onto her side and let out a world-weary sigh. Mae didn’t stir a bit. Her eyes were slammed shut and she was already breathing deeply, one arm flung off the side of the mattress.

Jem smiled at the sight.

Annie gave Mae a good-night kiss and said what appeared to be a prayer over her, her lips moving silently. When she was done, he closed the door softly behind them. He wondered if she’d want to write again tonight. She’d taken to typing for a short time every evening after Mae fell asleep. He’d sometimes stand outside the study door listening to the sound of her
tap-tap-tapping
away. He wondered what it was she wrote. She never showed him. There seemed this gulf of the unknown between them. So much he didn’t know about her.

Standing with her in the dimly lit hallway right then, however, seemed suddenly intimate. A handbreadth between them. Her swaying skirt brushing his leg. Her bedroom door just there to the right, his over there to the left.

He shook away the thought. They might be married on paper, but that didn’t mean he or she—either of them—was ready to make it a real marriage.

She looked especially young in the soft glow of the sconces. Twenty-two, she’d told him with her hand signals that night on the porch. Only he supposed she was twenty-three now that she’d had a birthday. Why had she wanted to share his? She’d wanted that before she’d even known him that well. Just a few weeks. That was all.

They’d been married, granted. But she hadn’t had much choice in the matter. It had been him or Creed. Maybe if Creed had “married” her she would have found a way to run away. Maybe that had been her plan. But then what? What would she have done? How would she have survived? He supposed she might have employed herself as a washerwoman in some mining town. Maybe found a hotel to work for.

Not much of a life. Not when he saw how much she loved Mae. And how much Mae had come to love her too. Annie even seemed to have won Ray over. And the day that Jem had interrupted her making pie with Mae, he’d actually seen Ben
smiling
. As if he’d decided he liked Annie too. Amazing.

Not that she wasn’t likable. Jem had to admit he liked her quite a lot.

They were
married
, the two of them. They shared a name. A birthday. It seemed strangely to bind them together, like a wedding ring might.

Jem knit his brow together.

They’d never exchanged rings, had they?

He’d given Lorelei a ring, of course. A pretty platinum band. He’d been tempted to bury her with it, not wanting to remove it from her finger. The act had seemed too final. Only the thought of Mae had stopped him. The ring would mean something to her someday, like the dresses and other things of her mother’s that he’d set aside.

But what about Annie?

It didn’t feel right giving her Lorelei’s ring. He’d see her wearing it. A constant reminder of Lorelei. And he’d feel sad looking at it every day. Uncomfortable.

Wrong.

No, it wouldn’t be right.

Annie was staring at him, he noticed, her head tilted to one side, perhaps trying to figure out what he was thinking. Perhaps wondering why he kept looking at her hands, her fingers.

He cleared his throat, casting about for something to say. Nothing would explain his long silence or his pointed stare.

“About the school I was telling you about...The one that teaches you to sign...”

She raised her brows, inviting him to continue.

“Well, I checked with the owner and there’s a boardinghouse in town, just a short walk from the school.”

Annie’s mouth compressed, and it looked like she’d bit down on the inside of her cheek.

Why did she look so worried? He’d thought she’d appreciate the convenience of being close to the school.

Jem frowned and continued, “Traveling back and forth over two hours each way—well, that would be a lot...”

He stopped, noticing her face still looked pinched, like he’d told her something unpleasant.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

* * *

Annie stood in the hall with Jem, but she may as well have been alone in the dim light of the sconces, deserted. So he was sending her away. She’d be staying in town.
How long?
She already missed him—and Mae—felt a dull ache in the center of her chest.

Annie bunched the waistband of her skirt into her fist, holding it tight against her stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Jem asked again. “Are you feeling poorly?” His concern was gratifying—but he was sending her away.

She shook her head impatiently. Tears were threatening to fall, her nose tingling—and she didn’t want to cry in front of him.

He’d done so much for her.

He was
doing
so much for her.

To complain would only be ungrateful.

“You’re not sick?” he pressed. He reached out and gathered her hand in his, making her release her grip on her skirt. He held her hand like it was a precious thing.

He’d been looking at her hands just moments ago, making her a bit self-conscious.

And now he was
touching
her.

They were alone in the hall with the light spilling over them, creating a circle on the wood floor.

Just the two of them.

He was holding her hand. Little delicate tingles swept up her arm from that one point of contact. So innocent, and yet so intimate. Heat rushed up into her cheeks. Her heart fluttered.

“Annie?”

She realized he was waiting for a response, and she forced a smile.
I’m fine. Don’t worry.

“It’s only for a month,” he said reassuringly, releasing her hand. “I know it will be new. And most of the students will be children…” he said in a leading way, as if he was guessing, searching his thoughts for why she might be upset.

Only one month.

As if each day wouldn’t feel like a year.

He’d be here at the ranch with Mae and Sugar. He’d have Ray. He’d even have Ben.

And she’d be alone. Without him. Jem.

All the others mattered to her, of course, but not quite so much. She’d come to long for his company. Somehow—perhaps it was the way she caught him looking at her at times—she’d begun to hope he felt a little something for her too. Would he miss her at all?

A buzzing sound had filled her head, like a swarm of bees between her ears. Or was it a whooshing sound—her pulse maybe?

And...he was talking. She forced herself up from her heavy thoughts and stared at his mouth, what she could see of it through his thick covering of beard. What would he look like without it? It was a stray thought. One she had often. She wanted to know. She wanted to touch his face...

What was he saying? His words finally penetrated, and she realized he was talking about Mae.

“...And she’ll need several dresses and at least one good pair of walking shoes. Her old ones are too small…”

It sounded suspiciously like he was making out a list, rattling off the items out loud, and from the way he was staring at her now and slowing down his speech, he expected her to be listening, remembering.

She raised a hand to stop him, then waved her finger in a double circle, like a wagon wheel turning backwards, asking him to return to the beginning.

“Did you hear a single word I said?” he complained.

She shook her head and offered him an apologetic smile. She lifted her brows, repeating her wagon wheel motion.
Again?

“I said, we’ll need to pack a carpetbag for Mae—”

Annie shook her head, confused. She held up her hands helplessly.
Why?

“Why? Because a month’s a long time, and we’ll need clothes and all sorts of provisions.”

We
.

Annie could barely hope. He couldn’t mean
we
as in
him, Mae, and her
?

“I’ll need to have an evening suit made for the wedding, I figure,” he continued, possibly more to himself than for her benefit. “May as well get that fitted while we’re there. And a pretty ball gown for you too. It’ll be quite a fancy affair.”

She leaned close and placed her fingers over his mouth, silencing him.

You?
She poked his chest and looked at him questioningly.
You’re going too?

“Of course I’m going,” he said, clearly puzzled by her reaction. “If we don’t learn too, who will you have to talk to?”

He said it as if it were so simple. As if it made so much sense. As if they’d discussed it already and decided together.

As if he didn’t know it meant the whole universe to her and all the stars.

“Ray and Ben will have to learn some signs too, but that will have to come later—” He broke off as she took his hand and raised it slowly to press a kiss to the backs of his fingers. Just as slowly she returned his hand to his side. He looked a mite shocked—but not in a bad way.

Thank you
. She gathered the gift of his thoughtfulness into her hand and held it to her heart.

“Are you going to write tonight?” he asked, taking a half step back, again distancing himself. And he did that thing where he scratched through his beard. She’d unsettled him with that one small gesture, but if given the chance she’d do it all over again. Let him be unsettled.

Yes
, she nodded absently, brushing past him to enter his room.
Definitely yes.
She’d have quite a bit of typing to do tonight in the little study that had once been Lorelei’s. On the typewriter Jem had given her.

How had she ever done without it?

And how had she ever thought going to school would be a bad thing? She was going to
learn
. And Jem was going to learn with her. She was filled with curiosity all of a sudden. What would this school be like?

THIRTY-THREE

T
he schoolroom had high ceilings, smooth wood floors, and a bank of windows that looked out at the mountains. The space was heated by a small kerosene stove up front, which dispersed most of the early October chill. From the outside the building was enormous, far larger than Annie had expected, with a brick facade and a big lawn.

Jem sat beside her in a chair meant for the older children. He dwarfed it, his knees angled higher than was probably comfortable.

They’d seen children here, besides Mae, but for the most part it was just the three of them—Jem, Annie, and Mae—spending their time with their sign language teacher, a middle-aged woman with severe black hair.

A boy in brown knickers and a white shirt stood at the door, capturing Mrs. Willard’s attention with a wave of his hand. He held a packet of papers. She turned away from them with an apology.

I will be back
, she signed. She did that a lot this last week, signing without speaking aloud.

She swished over to the door in her full ankle-to-neck black suit dress, with buttons going up nearly to her chin, her pointy black shoes clicking against the wood floor. The boy handed her the papers and was evidently answering her questions in sign. Annie averted her gaze after overcoming her first inclination to watch them. They accomplished all their conversing in complete silence.

It was the quietest place Annie had ever been. Especially since she knew it was filled with children of all ages and teachers and administrators. And yet so hushed. The only exception was a recess period, when the sound of many shoes scurrying down the hall picked up speed as they reached the side doors.

“Can you believe how quiet this place is?” Jem whispered.

“Daddy, stop,” Mae whispered back. “Teacher will hear.”

He reached out and plucked one of her bouncy brown curls. “Should I be afraid?” He said it and signed it at the same time. He really was the quickest of the three of them, Annie thought half in admiration and half despairing.

Yes
, Annie nodded with her hand to him, and he laughed out loud.

The teacher looked back with a reproving glance, but he just grinned back unrepentantly. He must have been quite a charming handful as a young man at university, Annie thought. And, she suspected, all the girls would have tried to sit next to him. She pictured them following him down the long halls to the dining room. In her mind’s eye the university was like this school, only covering a lot more ground.

Annie certainly couldn’t keep her eyes off Jem for more than a minute, and that was only when Mrs. Willard was in the middle of a lesson.

“Can you sign it, Mae?” Jem asked.

Mae concentrated hard and made a sign for
stop
and her name for her daddy, a letter “D” sign pressed to her forehead.

“You are so smart,” he said, signing back and speaking aloud as he did so Mae would understand everything.

Daddy is too loud
, Mae signed to Annie and giggled into her hand.

“What did she say?” he demanded loudly, pretending he didn’t understand—to Mae’s delight. He seemed to sign along without thinking about it at all.

She says you are too loud
, Annie signed to him. She couldn’t help smiling, even when the teacher strode back to her spot and commanded their attention.

Her lesson went on, but Annie only paid half attention.

Had what just happened really happened? Had she and Jem and Mae really held a real conversation and signed everything?

It filled her heart near to bursting, and she had to look out the window for a second or two before she got a few stray tears blinked away.

They’d be going home soon to Castle Ranch. They’d continue learning with books. Those had been ordered and would be delivered.

Home.

She couldn’t wait to see Sugar.

They saw Ray every Sunday at church, and Ben had come once too, a surprise. But other than that it had just been the three of them, learning their lessons, practicing, and staying in their rooms at a boardinghouse down the street from the school. Annie enjoyed walking here each chilly morning with Jem, kicking fallen leaves off the sidewalk as they hurried along with Mae between them, her hands firmly grasped in theirs.

It really had been the most amazing thing. A treasure. And it was almost over. Much as Annie wanted to get back to the ranch house and pat Sugar for hours, she’d miss the closeness they had here.

Perhaps they’d come back sometime, when Mae was a little older... But for now these were her last days at this amazing school. Her last days where life was just Jem, Mae, and her. Her own little family. And it was time for her little family to return home to the ranch. Would it seem changed to her now?