The Texan's Bride (34 page)

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Authors: Geralyn Dawson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #A Historical Romance

BOOK: The Texan's Bride
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Repeatedly as she considered her options, Katie snapped the end from a pea pod, yanked off the string, and gouged out the peas. She deliberated everything from running away and hiding, perhaps at Shaddoe’s
Le Cadeau d’Etoiles
, to remaining right where she sat with a loaded shotgun pointed at the door. Glancing down at the mess of smashed green peas in the wooden bowl in front of her, Katie shoved away from the table. Frustration made for messy shelling.

She sighed as she made her decision. Of all the choices available to her, only one addressed all three of her concerns. One man could solve all her problems.

She’d leave a note for Martha up at the inn and tack another one to her front door for Strickland. Surely she could come up with some kind of excuse not to be here when he arrived. Then she’d go to Riverrun Plantation and find Branch Kincaid.

An immediate trip to Brazoria in South Texas would put her beyond Strickland’s reach and solve her first predicament. If luck was with her, Branch would be at the Garrett family home, but if not, surely someone at Riverrun would know where to find him. She would explain what had happened—well, most of it, anyway—and he would realize that the major part of the blame for his brother’s death lay at the sheriff’s feet.

Together, she and Branch would see that the wheels of justice rolled right over Jack Strickland, thereby dealing with her second concern.

But the third, well, that was the thorniest of the bunch. If she burned a few red-onion peels for luck, maybe Branch would forgive her participation in Rob Garrett’s death and believe her when she said she’d not betrayed him with Shaddoe.

Then she could tell him about the baby. She dare not risk it before she knew Branch would honor their marriage—the powerful Garrett family was too big a threat to an innkeeper’s daughter. Katie still loved her husband, and she knew she could forgive his lack of faith if Branch could forgive her and accept her love and the child they had made together.

They could be a family. Her child would have a father. And, just perhaps, she would have Branch’s love.

It was the grandest of all dreams.

Daybreak the next morning found Pretty Girl and her mistress headed south on the road toward Liberty. Traveling at a steady pace, Katie hoped to make Brazoria and Riverrun Plantation within the month.

She’d have a nice little belly growing by then.

 

KATIE SMOOTHED her skirt, unhappily aware of the idleness of the gesture. Over three weeks of hard traveling couldn’t be so easily erased, and besides, after traveling in this open wagon all morning she’d be covered in road dust when she finally arrived at Riverrun. She might as well have ridden Pretty Girl straight from camp instead of going into town and catching a ride out to the plantation.

She winced and brushed a layer of dirt from the sleeve of her yellow gingham. She should have planned better, worn a traveling cloak, and changed into this dress just prior to arriving at the Garrett home. But she simply hadn’t been thinking straight—the nerves rumbling around in her stomach demanded too much attention from her mind.

At least she’d thought to wear the yellow dress. Of the three she had packed in her bag, it alone had the fullness required to hide the signs of her advancing pregnancy. Even so, she’d have to be careful how she stood; it wouldn’t do for a Garrett to get a good look at her from the side.

The driver interrupted her thoughts. “Missy, we’ll be there directly.”

“Wonderful,” she replied, not thinking it wonderful at all.
I can’t believe I’m doing this
, she thought.
I’m going to meet the Garrett family and ask for their help. Really, I ought to be shot for even thinking of crossing Riverrun’s boundary
.

She swallowed hard as the wagon turned onto a road marked by two brick pillars. Mounted on each was a metal sign with raised letters that read
Riverrun
.

A hedge of Cherokee roses lined the road. “Where is it?” she asked the driver in a squeaky voice.

“The Big House? Why, it’s two miles yet. The cane fields are off to the left, behind that stand of oaks. See, there be the slave quarters, look through that open space.”

Katie caught a glimpse of a cluster of frame cabins, probably twenty by twenty feet, with brick chimneys.

The driver asked, “You seen a cane plantation before, Missy?” Katie shook her head, and he continued. “You’ll have to look close to get a looksee at this’un. Hoss Garrett, he keeps it all hidden back amongst the trees, blacksmith’s shop, the overseer’s house, the carriage house, barn, stock pens—all of it. He don’t want nothing distracting from a visitor’s first glimpse of the Big House.”

Shortly, Katie understood Hoss Garrett’s reasoning. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. No wonder Mr. Garrett had spoken of his home with such love. On the west bank of the Brazos, the afternoon sun bathed the redbrick dwelling in shimmering light. A lump grew in Katie’s chest as she realized what Rob had given up in his attempt to save her daughter.

For the first time, she looked forward to meeting Hoss Garrett. Perhaps she could find some way to convey her gratitude to the man whose son had died in violence that awful night. But first, she’d inquire after Rob’s brother.

The road circled in front of the mansion, and as the driver pulled the wagon up to the front steps, he whistled. “Glory be, they’ve done a fine job of getting the gardens ready for this party tonight, that’s for sure.”

Katie whipped her head toward him. “Party?” she asked.

“Ain’t that what you’re coming out here for?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t realize the Garretts were entertaining today.”

The driver climbed out of the wagon, nodding as he did so. “Sho’nuff. Big dance here this evening. You know what? The whole top floor of that house is a ballroom. Fancy that, these rich folks are something else.” He walked to the wagon’s side to assist Katie down from her perch.

She looked to the house with dismay. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Well, you’re here now,” he said, “and I gotta get these things around to the kitchen. If you’re ready to head back before me, hitch on around that way.”

He climbed back into his seat, and with a click of the reins, the wagon squeaked round the drive. Katie took a deep breath, dusted off her skirts, and climbed the steps to the front porch.

A gentleman, not yet thirty, Katie guessed, answered her knock. With his dark hair and blue eyes, he looked so much like Rob Garrett that he took her breath away. “Come in, come in,” he said. “We are so pleased you could join us. Actually, you’re our first guest to arrive, so…”

“Excuse me, I’m afraid I’m not a guest. Well, that is, oh—” Flustered, Katie gave a quick toss of her head and said determinedly, “I’ve come to speak with Mr. Garrett. Mr. H. R. Garrett, if you please.”

The young man’s brow lifted in an amused slant. He ushered her into the house, where she marveled at the beauty of the long hallway. Baskets of flowers lined the walls leading to a circular staircase draped in garlands of magnolia blossoms.

“Oh, my goodness,” Katie said, gazing around in awe. “How very beautiful everything looks.”

“Really?” The young man scowled at the flowers. “I think it a bit overdone. Smells something like an undertaker’s in here. Of course”—he grinned then, watching her with an absolutely wicked expression in his eyes—”now that
you’re
here, the old place definitely holds more allure. Have we met before, Miss… ?”

Katie smiled at him. “Mrs., Mrs. Kincaid.”

“Wouldn’t you know.” He exaggerated his sigh and shook his head. “I’m Chase Garrett, Mrs. Kincaid. Welcome to Riverrun. May I offer you a refreshment?”

“No, thank you. I—”

“Here, come into the parlor. I need something to drink even if you don’t, Mrs. Kincaid. Your beauty leaves me positively parched.” He gestured toward the first doorway on the right. Katie smiled and walked into the room.

Elegant rosewood tables accented the handsome marble hearth. Wool damask draperies hung over two floor length windows, and Katie caught a glimpse of herself in a large, gold-framed mirror that reached almost to the stenciled ceiling. She saw that Chase Garrett watched her behind with undisguised enthusiasm.

She whirled around. He wore a look that reminded her so much of Branch—the innocent angel’s look—that she gave an inadvertent “Oh!”

Immediately he frowned and asked, “Mrs. Kincaid?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m here to speak with Mr. Garrett about a matter of some urgency. I only learned upon my arrival of the event you are hosting this evening, and I apologize for my untimely intrusion. But do you think it would be possible for me to have just a moment of his time?”

“Why, Mrs. Kincaid, a woman of your beauty could never be an intrusion. Let me hasten to assure you, the only way you could possibly be more welcome would be if there were no Mr. Kincaid.”

Katie stiffened momentarily. Chase Garrett leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed and a besotted smile on his face. She relaxed. “I do believe, Mr. Garrett, you have, as my father would have said, a true gift for the blarney.”

“Thank you, madame.” He bowed his head, and when he looked at her, he wore his wicked grin once again. “I must admit I learned it all at my cousin’s knees.”

“Cousin?” Katie asked, hoping to hear something that could help her bring up the subject of Rob.

“Yep, quite a lady-killer, he is. That’s why I can’t believe he’s actually going through with it. I never thought I’d see the day when good Ol’ cuz… oh, there’s my uncle. I’ll go tell him you’re waiting.”

Katie heard his voice echo down the hallway. “Hoss, there’s a beautiful woman here to see you. Says it’s a matter of some urgency.” Katie could almost hear Chase’s grin as he added, “Where do you find them, Uncle?”

Just what I need
, she thought. He’ll think badly of me before he meets me.

From a distance away, upstairs, she imagined, a deep voice boomed. “I’ll be right down.”

Chase returned and, seeing Katie’s expression, looked somewhat sheepish. “I guess you heard all that, huh? We Garretts tend to forget our manners sometimes and shout our way around this drafty old place.”

Katie smiled but didn’t reply.

“Please have a seat, Mrs. Kincaid,” he said. Walking to a table, he gestured to a pitcher that sat beside cut-crystal decanters. “Lemonade?”

Katie had never tasted lemonade, though she’d heard of it. Although she felt guilty for accepting anything from the Garretts, the temptation proved to be too great. “Please.”

He handed her a tall glass of the pale yellow, pulpy beverage, then fixed himself something from a decanter. Blended whiskey, she supposed.

“While we’re waiting, and since I’ve already demonstrated my capacity for rude behavior, may I inquire as to this urgent matter that brings you here today?” He sat on the arm of a brocade sofa and waited for her answer.

Katie sipped her drink. She puckered, whether from the sour taste of the drink or the question, she knew not. “I’d rather not say,” she finally answered. “It’s a personal matter.”

Garrett shrugged, but the curious look remained on his face. Katie was relieved to hear the approach of heavy footsteps. A large man with graying hair entered the room. Dressed in a casual, though elegant, white ruffled shirt with black string cravat and navy pants tucked into tall leather riding boots, the man looked hauntingly familiar.

Chase stood and performed the introductions. “Mrs. Kincaid, may I present my uncle, Hoss Garrett. Sir, Mrs. Kincaid.” He sat right back down as though he intended not to miss a word.

“Welcome to Riverrun, Mrs. Kincaid. Do you know my wife was a Kincaid? Could it be we’ve a relative come to call?”

Katie ignored the wings fluttering in her stomach. “Yes, Mr. Garrett. I believe so.”

When he raised his eyebrows, she noticed the color of his eyes. Gold.

Garrett clapped his hands and said, “Wonderful. You know, my wife had cousins by the dozens, and we’re always glad to have Kincaid’s visit us here at Riverrun. Especially today. I hope you will stay for the entertainment, Mrs. Kincaid. We’re giving a dinner to be followed by dancing this evening, and we’d love to have another guest.”

Katie shook her head. This was turning out to be much more difficult than she had anticipated. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I’m looking for someone; that’s why I’m here.”

“Looking for someone, huh?” Garrett repeated. “Well you’ve certainly come to the right place. Half of Texas will be here soon. Chase”—he looked at his nephew—”go upstairs and get the man of the hour. He’s the one to help Mrs. Kincaid. He has the guest list.”

Chase left the room before Katie could stop him. Oh dear, she thought, why not take out an advertisement in the local paper, “Wanted: Lost Husband.”

“Mr. Garrett, I’d rather keep this between us if possible.” She clicked her tongue and shut her eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to admit the truth. “You see, this is somewhat embarrassing. I believe the man I’m searching for is your son.”

“What?”

Katie hung her head. Miserably, she continued. “He’s probably told you about me. I’m the woman who—”

“Just a moment, young woman. Here’s the boy now. Let’s see what he has to say about all of this.”

“But, Mr. Garrett,” she pleaded.

She turned her head away, mortified, as another person entered the room. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. She took a sip of her lemonade. Perhaps it would cool the heat in her face.

Garrett was saying, “Here he is, Mrs. Kincaid. Britt, do you know this relative of your mama’s?”

Katie’s head snapped up at the strangled sound the newcomer made. The lemonade spewed from her mouth. “Branch Kincaid!”

“What in the hell are you doing here?” Branch’s words cut across the room like a bowie knife.

When she heard his voice, the delicious timbre she’d dreamed about, Katie felt her baby kick.

 

 

CHAPTER 18

 

 

SILENCE LAY LIKE A corpse in the parlor.

Hoss Garrett’s face wrinkled in scorn, visibly appalled at his son’s outburst. Chase pursed his lips in an inaudible “Ooh,” and took a step backward. Katie clutched her glass of lemonade, her lips parted in disbelief.

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