Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel (31 page)

This was all Zach’s fault.

The debating continued on in his head while he settled in his easy chair by the window and unfolded the newspaper. The scalding coffee burned his tongue as if in punishment for his negative thoughts, and he bolted up, nearly dumping the mug of coffee as he muttered under his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Greta take out her key, then disappear from sight into the store. With just that brief glimpse of her, the debate in his head came to a screeching halt. She was a part of his life now—a part that he wanted to keep. She was like a breath of fresh mountain air every time she entered a room. He loved her unusual accent and how her native language would occasionally slip into a conversation, and he loved how she felt in his arms. How could he live without her now?

But after seeing her look so happy with Cole, he wondered if she wanted him at all. After all, she’d admitted that she had just gotten over his brother. He’d have to find out. But not tonight—she wanted to finish her sewing or endure Agnes’s wrath. Yet he was comforted knowing that she was only a few steps away in the room just below him.

Zach was worn out. It had been a longer day than normal for him. He stored the wagon in the barn, then rubbed his horse down and fed him. When he entered the mercantile from the back door, he noticed a light still burning in the front of the store. What was Jess doing downstairs? All he wanted to do was drop into bed. After he and Caleb cleared a path to his property, he’d hurried back to town and purchased lumber to start a barn and small house. He’d made two loads, then sent Caleb on to help Jess out, but he missed the extra set of hands. Caleb turned out to be a hard worker, and he knew it pleased Jess to no end how it had all worked out. He was certain that Jess saw him as a younger version of Bryan. Jess was so good-hearted and loyal, which made it hard to tell him that Zach was in love with his future bride!

To his surprise, a light was coming from the sewing area, and Greta sat with her head over some material, her foot pumping the treadle as the sewing machine hummed quietly. “Greta, working kinda late, aren’t you?” he asked, hating to break her concentration.

She lifted her head and blinked tired eyes. “Oh, Zach. I didn’t hear you come in. I’ve just finished here.” She stopped the machine and cut the thread, then knotted it and put the material aside. “You look tired.”

“I was just thinking the same of you. Trouble is,
I
smell like a billy goat and you don’t.” He chuckled. “So I don’t want to get too close.”

Her laughter rang out. “I promise not to hold you at arm’s length.” She yawned and stretched her arms overhead. “I’m going back to the hotel,” she said, standing.

Zach debated with himself. He wanted nothing more than to go upstairs to bed, but he couldn’t let her walk the streets of Central City at this late hour alone. He shifted on his boots. “I’ll walk you back then.”

“Don’t do that. It’s just a short distance. I’m not afraid.”

“Truth is I’m mighty tired, but I think it’s best if I walk you to the hotel. I don’t mind at all.”

“If you insist.”

He waited as she retrieved her coat and packages, then followed her to the door. “Let me carry your bag and you can carry the hatbox. Looks like you did some shopping today. I suppose Cora’s already at the hotel? I haven’t seen much of her today.” They fell into step down the sidewalk while he adjusted his stride to her shorter one.

“Yes, seems she had some mysterious business to attend to, and I saw her leave this afternoon with Jess. But I haven’t seen him since I left for supper.”

“Hmm . . . guess we’ll find out sooner or later, won’t we?” This would be a good time to talk to her about his feelings for Cora. But he couldn’t do that without finding out if Jess was looking forward to marrying Cora. Best if he talked to his brother first.

“Well, I think I know . . . I saw Cora in his arms and they were kissing this morning, so apparently they’re planning to go ahead and get married.”

Zach felt like someone had hit him in the stomach. How could that have happened? He stopped and turned to her. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. They were near the back of the store, and I was coming through the back door after I went looking for Rascal.” She paused. “Is everything all right, Zach?”

A flash of hot anger seeped its way up his neck and into his face. “Sure. I’m just fine.” But he was not fine. He continued on down the walk, his hands tightly gripping her bag. How could Cora do that? What happened to her wanting to be his wife and the partner of his ranch? He gritted his teeth, almost forgetting that Greta was walking with him.

Greta slowed her steps on the last block. “Zach . . . I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“You’ve got my undivided attention. What is it?”

She stopped on the sidewalk, gazing up at him with her big blue eyes. She was just about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen . . . but that was as far as it went with his feelings.

She chewed the inside of her cheek before speaking. “I want to go ahead with our marriage ceremony as soon as possible.”

Her eyes held his as he stood dumbfounded, not sure what to say. “You do? I thought we were going to take our time for a few more weeks.” His mouth went dry.

She reached for his hand. “I’ve been doing some thinking. What are we waiting for? I could make the plans for a small ceremony next week. And I can help you build your house. I’m not afraid of hard work.”

He swallowed hard. Her hand was soft and warm, but where was the tingle up his spine that he’d had when Cora held his hand?

“I know you’re not. It’s just that . . . I have a few things I need to take care of first.” He knew it sounded lame, but he was too tired tonight to deal with this. She’d thrown him for a loop with this unexpected idea. “This is a bit sudden. Can we talk about it later?”

“All right. But we mustn’t wait too long. We don’t want Jess and Cora to beat us to the altar, now do we? We are called mail-order
brides
, or don’t you remember?”

Zach groaned as she dropped her hand, and they continued on down the street. “How well I remember.” When they reached the hotel, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a brief good night, then waited for her to enter the building. What had made her get a bee in her bonnet about suddenly wanting to get married next week? Well, it just couldn’t happen. Not now. Not ever. He’d speak to Jess when he got home and see where he stood with his feelings for Cora.

But when Zach returned home, Jess was snoring in his bed. Zach considered whacking his brother on the nose for kissing Cora, but he wasn’t about to wake him since he intended to be sleeping in less than three minutes himself.

Cora was sleeping soundly when Greta turned the key in the lock. She tiptoed in and was grateful for the hotel’s finer accoutrements like the plush carpet so she didn’t wake Cora. She’d lost her nerve to ask Cora about kissing Zach and Jess, and she was bone weary. Quietly she set her packages down and hurried through her ablutions. She donned her gown, crawled into bed, and pulled up the fluffy blankets, then stared at the moonlight reflected on the ceiling.

Her head was in a continuing whirl of confusion, and her headache was growing. Finding Cora in Jess’s arms had splintered her heart. So much so that she couldn’t begin to articulate any words to him once he’d returned this afternoon. The only thing she could do was avoid him. He’d said himself that he was too afraid of his brother’s shadow. But hadn’t she convinced him otherwise? Then Zach was totally taken aback at the suggestion of their marriage. Hadn’t he been eager just a week ago? She shouldn’t have practically thrown herself at him tonight. Maybe she should pack up and return to Cheyenne.

Lord, I’ve never been more confused. I thought I was walking down the right path, but now it seems that pathway has split in two directions. I can only take one—marry Zach or go back home. Give me some sign, some guidance about what to do . . . And please help me be pleasant to Agnes . . .
Soon her swollen eyes were firmly shut tight.

It seemed like only moments later when a loud rapping on their door awakened her.

Greta squinted at the clock. It was barely six o’clock. Cora was already awake and dressing and turned to see Greta stirring in bed. “Whoever could be knocking on our door at this hour?” Greta whispered.

Cora shook her head as she stuck a pin into her thick hair. “I can’t imagine,” she said and walked toward the door. “Who’s there?”

“Miss Cora,” a frantic voice said through the door. “It’s Martha Carey. Please . . . can I speak with you a moment?”

Cora opened the door just as Greta donned her robe. “Martha. Is everything all right?”

Martha stood in the hallway, wringing a handkerchief in her chapped hands. “I’m truly sorry to disturb you at this hour, but you did say if I should ever need anything to let you know.”

“Yes, I did. Go on. Are the children okay?”

Martha bobbed her head. Concern was etched in deep lines on her face. “They are. It’s Horace. He’s in the hospital with a severe case of pneumonia, and I . . . I don’t know which way to turn.”

Cora took her arm, gently ushered her inside, and closed the door. “Please, tell me what I can do to help.”

“It’s the children. I’ve left them alone for two days now, and they’re so frightened. The oldest is trying to take care of the little ones.” She drew in a deep breath. “Do you think the store could spare you to help care for them while I’m at the hospital for today? I’m so worried about them.”

“Have no worry about that. I’m not tied to that store,” Cora said, snatching up her coat and handbag. She turned to Greta. “Please let Jess know where I am, will you, Greta?”

“Of course, and if you need anything, just send word.” Greta blinked, trying to wake up and grasp the situation.

Cora started for the door, ushering Martha along, then paused. “I’m sorry, Martha, this is Greta Olsen, a good friend of mine.”

Martha nodded in her direction as she walked toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Martha. Your children will be in good hands with Cora.”

They were gone in a flash, and Greta was tempted to crawl back under the warm covers, but it was nearly time to get up anyhow. She trudged over to the bathroom and was horrified at the face she saw in the mirror. Puffy eyes stared back at her. Last night she’d slept very little. Frequently she woke to the image of Cora in Jess’s arms, made worse by the remembrance of how his lips had felt on her own.

She shook herself mentally and splashed cold water on her face. Enough! Her crying was over. She couldn’t change a thing and needed to trust God for her future. The lesson she’d learned was to not always trust her heart, and that just might mean returning to Wyoming.

Greta skipped breakfast and arrived before anyone else at the store. She pulled up the shades, allowing the bright sun to light up the room. She took comfort now in the eclectic smells of the mercantile—beeswax, leather, tobacco, a crate of polished apples, pine floors, and the woodsy smoke smell of the stove. Rascal was awake in his crate, and she opened the door to give him a squeeze. He wagged his tail in delight as his pink tongue licked her hands. Carrying the small ball of fur, she tiptoed down the hallway and opened the back door, then put him out to do his business.