The Bartered Bride (The Brides Book 3) (7 page)

“Gabe, I—”

“It’s just, I need somebody to talk me through the steps. That’s all. A friend,” Gabe blurted out. Then, embarrassed by his outburst, he bent his head over the twine, hopefully appearing absorbed by the job of untangling it.

He looked up to see an expression of sympathy cross Ben’s face. He knew, of course. He knew all the years of struggle that lay behind Gabe’s request. It was part of what made them friends: all that time, the understanding of the hard things in life.

“I’ll think about it.” Ben pulled a face.

“Just tell me when,” Gabe said, smirking in mock confidence.

Ben just shook his head. He wasn’t quite laughing, but almost.

Gabe raised a hand in farewell as Ben turned his horse and headed toward home.

Soon enough he’d have to go home too.

Would his father be back?

Gabe sank down on his heels to examine the broken fence post again. Was there any way he could find a couple hundred more things to do so he didn’t have to face his father just yet?

SEVEN

I
t seemed they’d been in the wagon for hours. Annie knew it couldn’t have been that long, not truly. But they’d long since left the pretty brick buildings and proper sidewalks of Colorado Springs behind. She’d thought then that she couldn’t feel more miserable or filthy, but then the puppy had gotten sick on the only pair of boots she owned.

They weren’t much. Never had been. And they especially weren’t much now. She’d gotten them passed down from Ruth Ann and Coralie, the Ruskins’ two daughters. They’d already worn the boots down before Annie got them. Annie herself had been wearing them a good three or four years now. The soles were so full of holes and splits she was surprised her foot didn’t go clean through.

Now they had the worst kind of ick on them.

Could she feel sorry for herself now? Surely, she’d earned the right.

As civilization disappeared behind them, nature filled in: trees, dirt, tall grasses.

The paved road turned to dirt turned to rocks. Then Ray steered them up a steep mountain pass. The wagon trundled along the side of a cliff, with little more than a dirt path to keep it from tumbling into nothingness. Truthfully, the path may have been as wide as a city street, but with her pulse hammering in her ears, Annie could barely see properly.

She clung to the side of the wagon, praying silently, her gaze fixed on a distant point ahead of them.

Seemed the puppy didn’t much like the ride either. Poor thing. Where before it had curled up on the floorboards at her feet, it now lay huddled in her lap. Annie kept her arm wrapped tight around it to make sure it didn’t accidentally fall out. A fall down a slope this steep would be the end of it.

There had been drops worse than this on the train. But at least then they’d been on rails, not just skinny wagon wheels on a road—if you could call it that—pulled by two oxen trudging along.

She was thankful Mae had finally fallen asleep. After chattering nonstop for the first part of the trip, she was now slumbering in the back of the wagon, well within the reach of a hand if necessary, secured in place with some leather straps on a bed of colorful wool Indian blankets.

Annie envied her ability to sleep through this tiny stretch of nightmare.

She glanced briefly at the cliff edge on Ray’s side. It wasn’t as deep as some of the caverns she’d seen on the train—sheer yawning drops that made you catch your breath—but deep enough to kill a person if you fell off of it. As high as two churches with steeples stacked on top of each other.

“Just who are you?” Ray asked, glancing at her.

Annie let loose of the side of the wagon for a second and placed her hand over her mouth. Just as quickly she caught hold of the side of the wagon again and held tight. It occurred to her that if Ray lost control and went over the edge, her only hope of survival would be to grab Mae and throw herself out on her side—the “safe” side.

“You can’t speak, truly?” Ray said, raising his brows.

She nodded.

He continued to look at her, his expression interested, suspicious even. It was a slanted, sideways kind of glance, looking her over, up and down. No, he didn’t trust her, but at least he was looking,
seeing
her. Though part of her wished he’d keep his eyes on the ox road, which was what he’d called it.

How to tell him...

To make any hand motions she’d either have to release the side of the wagon or motion with the hand she was using to secure the puppy on her lap.

She took a breath to settle her nerves, then let loose of the wagon. She smoothed an imaginary veil over her head, then tapped her empty ring finger, where a wedding band would have been if she’d had one.

“Married?” Ray asked incredulously. It was a little too loud, practically a yelp, and Annie looked over her shoulder at Jem, who was riding behind the wagon with his horses. He was too far to have heard what Ray had said, Annie hoped.

They hit a rut and weaved.

Annie squeezed her eyes shut, again gripping the side of the wagon.

Yes
. She nodded. She used the hand that she had wrapped around the puppy—the hand closest to Ray—to raise one finger. From the way Jem had greeted Ray at the train platform, this man was going to be part of her new family too. She might as well start his training now.

“You’re
married
?” Ray repeated in much the same tone of disbelief as he’d used before. “To
Jem
?”

One finger and a nod.

Ray fiddled with the reins. “Phew!” He blew out a breath. “When? How? And why didn’t he send word to us before now?”

Annie frowned, wondering how she could tell him they’d only married today. She released the wagon reluctantly and pointed to the sun. It was now hovering lower on the horizon—a blazing fire ball, turning the mountains golden.

“Sun?” Ray guessed. “Sundown? Sun
day
?”

She quickly lifted two fingers and shook her head.
No.

If it got too dark to see, she could tap on his arm. One for yes, and two for no. Maybe he’d understand.

She tried again. With a sweep of her arm, she tracked the imaginary path of the sun back to where it had been earlier in the day.

There was a long pause, then Ray said, “One day?”

Close.

She nodded, lifting one finger out of habit. Then, unhappy with that answer, she grunted and pinched her finger and thumb together, indicating smaller and smaller.

“Less than a day?”

She smiled at him, forgetting her filth, forgetting her stinky soaked skirts. Happy. Relieved.

“You’re telling me Jem married you
today
?”

She smiled less certainly at Ray’s tone and nodded, not bothering to motion with one finger, barely daring to move.

He actually sounded angry.

He shouldn’t be. If he only knew all Jem had done. That he’d saved her. She swelled to nearly bursting inside, wanting to tell him everything about Daniel and the ad in the paper, about him selling her to the mean-eyed man from the train, and what Jem had done. She wanted to tell Ray about the puppy too—how Jem had acted the hero.

Annie stopped to pet the pup’s soft fur, already forgiving her for the accident on the train, when she’d wet on Annie’s dress, and also for ruining her only pair of boots. It was useless to be mad at the poor thing. She hadn’t done it on purpose. She couldn’t help it. Annie paused, thinking again about the mean-eyed man and how Jem had stopped to talk to him beside the train. What had Jem said to the man? Did he live nearby?

Would he try to cause trouble?

She felt suddenly dizzy with worry.

But she couldn’t possibly tell Ray any of the story. Hopefully, Jem would. She had questions of her own. Questions about Jem’s wife. How long ago had she died? Where had Jem come from? He’d obviously arrived today from some distance and it seemed like he’d been gone for some time.

Did he live here?

No, she thought. But he was obviously coming back. Maybe for good?

“I can’t believe it. Married.” Ray shook his head, apparently musing aloud. “Lorelei’s been gone, what—not quite a year? I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’d do it so
suddenly
.
Today
?” He glanced at Annie, and it was more than clear her appearance had a good deal to do with his surprise.

Annie ducked her head, ashamed at how dirty she’d let herself get, even before all the accidents had occurred with the puppy. Mrs. Ruskin would’ve been shocked to the core to see her now.
All
the Ruskins would have gawked at the sight of her.

“I suppose I always expected him to marry again,” Ray continued, still ruminating aloud. “He’s a young man and Mae needs a mother. Still, it seems...soon-ish. Unexpected. So very unexpected.”

As Ray rambled on, Annie looked back at Jem riding behind them. From the sure way he rode with his small herd in tow, he was obviously an expert horseman. She’d learned too that he was considerate of the horses. At one point as they were headed out of town into what appeared to be the Colorado wilderness, he’d stopped to check on one of his horses. He’d flagged Ray to stop and told him the horse was favoring one leg. Then he’d dropped back and slowed his pace, obviously concerned. Ray had slowed too, Annie sensed, making their trip even longer.

But it wasn’t just Jem’s consideration of the horses that impressed her. Despite his intimidating looks, she caught herself admiring the width of his shoulders, his perfect easy posture in the saddle. Everything about him. His leather coat, his hat. Even his heavy beard—how it covered his face, giving him an air of mystery. She felt a little flutter of awareness rise in her chest. He just seemed so powerful. Strong. And he was her husband now. They’d signed a paper. He had that paper tucked down his shirt even now.

They were married.

Married
.

Would he want to touch her? Annie wondered suddenly. Surely he wouldn’t expect to bring her to his bed tonight. She swallowed uneasily. He barely seemed able to look at her, so she couldn’t imagine him wanting her that way. But, if he did... No. Even if that was his intention, she couldn’t. It would be too strange. To lie beside him. Beside any man. She never had, despite what Daniel had insinuated. Her mother may have been “not all she should’ve been,” but Annie had been raised proper. She’d been taught to love God. She read her Bible. She went to church. Why, she’d never even kissed a boy, not even a peck on the cheek. Not that any of the boys back in Tennessee had looked at her that way. She suspected Mr. Ruskin—both as the town preacher and as her guardian—would’ve set them straight quick if they had looked at her with any romantic interest, anything that wasn’t perfectly proper. But that had never been a problem.

In truth, most of the people in town were practiced in not seeing her at all.

She was Annie, the mute.

The preacher’s dumb maidservant.

That girl.

Folks in church hadn’t truly been unkind to her, not deliberately. At least she didn’t think it had been deliberate. They’d simply been uncomfortable around her. How could they possibly realize that whenever they looked right through her it felt worse than a slap?

“I’m tired of people dying,” Ray was still talking aloud, seeming to include her now. “We’ve had enough of death and dying, and I’m not getting any younger. I’m worried about Ben—he’s just not right these days. Not the Ben he used to be. He needs something new—something to hope in. He needs
family
. But he’s in no shape to marry anyone—none whatsoever—bitter like he is. He needs Jem—he needs to forgive and move on—and he needs Mae. She’s a light, ain’t she? Having someone young around the house might help take his mind off his troubles. Something new. Something positive. I hope so. He needs...joy.”

Annie murmured in agreement, unsure if he truly expected any response from her. She glanced back again at Jem to find him watching them, his expression preoccupied. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking.

Wondering what kind of regrets he had for getting himself stuck with her.

And what kind of future lay before them.

Two strangers, no ring. But married nonetheless.
Married
.