A Bride at Last (36 page)

The mongrel barely opened his eyes to acknowledge him.

“Silas?”

He jolted up and turned to the barn door as Kate blew in, most of her hair hanging loose, her pins jumbled inside her tresses like brambles. Her skirts whipped around the crate she held.

He rushed over to shut the door.

She plopped the crate down and attempted to smooth her wild hair behind her ears, pulling pins as she went. “And I thought it was hard to keep my hair up in Missouri.”

He wanted to fix the pin sticking straight out from behind her ear but wasn’t sure that’d be acceptable. “I didn’t expect to
see you until Friday or Saturday when Everett usually comes to town. You didn’t walk all the way here, did you?”

She shook her head and finally dislodged the wayward pin bothering him. Her dark auburn hair hung thickly to the middle of her back. No wonder she couldn’t contain it.

She shoved the pins in her pocket, then gathered and twisted her hair over her shoulder, nervously running her fingers through the tangles. “Mr. Cline came into town early.”

“I didn’t mean to steal you away from Julia.”

“She was all right with it.”

They stood staring at each other. Did she know how uncomfortable she looked? She’d stopped messing with her hair and now wrung her hands, transferring her weight from one foot to the other.

Wait.
Bare toes stuck out from under her skirts. “Where are your boots? It’s not exactly warm outside.”

“They’re in the crate.” She pointed to her boots flopped over the wine bottle he’d given her. “I only have one other pair of slippers, and they wouldn’t have lasted the walk out here.”

His heart kicked up a notch. She’d chosen him? Without him telling her how much he admired her, and after he’d basically insisted he was a good-for-nothing? Or had she chosen to sacrifice herself for Anthony? His flesh turned hot, then cold. She’d come here for Anthony in the first place, not him. No reason to think he was the main reason she’d choose to wed.

Kate stepped forward, hands behind her back. “You were right.”

He blinked. According to the men at the post office, that might be the first and last time he’d hear that from her.

“Nearly every time I’ve run, I didn’t ask God where He wanted me.”

He was almost too afraid to ask, despite her boots lying in the crate. “Do you know where He wants you now?”

“With you and Anthony.” She ran a bare toe across the barn’s dirt floor. “But I’m scared of the future, just like you.”

He’d probably scare her even more if he swallowed her up and kissed her like he had at the train station.

“But I still put my boots in there.” She pointed to the crate. “If you’ll risk marrying me, I can risk you disappointing me, if . . . well . . .” And all of a sudden she flushed bright red.

“If what?” He tilted her chin up until she dragged her gaze off her bare feet.

She blinked and swallowed, her heartbeat quick against his fingertips. “If our marrying could be more than a convenient solution to my predicament.”

Ah, so she cared for him more than he’d dared to hope. He ran his thumb over the blush high on her heated cheek, then brushed his lips against her warm cheekbone and whispered into her ear, “There’s no such thing as a convenient woman in my house.”

Her short and fast breathing feathered his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about running away from so many—”

“Nothing to apologize for.” He placed a kiss against her jawline. “My reaction wasn’t your fault.”

She shuddered.

But that reaction was definitely his fault.

“And I’m sorry I pinned all my hope on you instead of trusting God.”

He waited for her eyes to open. “Absolutely no need to apologize to me for that.”

“Well then, I’m sorry—”

He stopped her with a feather-soft brush of his lips. Her eyes widened for a second, then slammed shut. He kissed her softly again, pulling her into an embrace, her body relaxed and weighty in his arms.

He broke away and took his time looking at each freckle sprin
kled across her cheeks, her long eyelashes, the swirl of greens and gold in her soft, peace-filled eyes. He smiled. “Got anything else you don’t need to apologize for? I’d like to stop you again.”

“No. But maybe I’ll have to apologize for this.” She pushed up on her tiptoes and hit his lips hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her mouth against his with determination.

He groaned and kissed her like the ravenous man he was. Oh, how she felt good in his arms, the chemistry they’d had at the train station blooming sevenfold. She was his this time. His. He wrapped her up tight, then broke off for air and held her back a little. “No apology needed for that either, unless you have something against marrying me today.”

Her eyelids fluttered. “How did you refuse to marry me after kissing me like that in Breton and in the soddy?”

How had he, indeed? “I told you I don’t always make good decisions.”

She laced her fingers into his. “But you’ll try?”

Her warm hand in his felt even better than her kisses. He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll try. But what will you do when I do something stupid again?”

“Stick around and help you stop being stupid.”

“No running?” He tightened his grip.

“Maybe to cool off for a while, but not forever.” She wrapped her other hand around his arm and tried to pull him closer.

Oh, how he was tempted to sweep her up again. But they shouldn’t. “So what was your answer to marrying me today?”

She tiptoed up to kiss him.

He smiled against her lips, kissing her back a little but refusing to get entangled again. “I’ll take that as a yes, because if not, you’re going to get us in trouble.”

She went back down onto flat feet and sighed. “Today will have to be soon enough, I suppose.”

Not soon enough at all. He kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s pick up Anthony from school. He’ll be ecstatic. He’s been put out with me over you.”

“He’ll see soon enough he’s got no more reason to be.”

She hadn’t seen how grumpy Anthony had been lately. “Taking him out to ice cream would probably help.”

“Again? I thought you had no money.”

He started for the door, her hand still nicely tucked into his. “I know a pretty lady who happens to have a couple hundred dollars. I’m hoping she’ll part with one. I bet Anthony would agree she should.”

She laughed. “I’m sure he would.”

“But first, you need some boots.” He let go of her hand to pick up the crate she’d dropped inside the barn door.

“I thought you wanted me to give them up?”

“What would the townsfolk think if I let you walk down the aisle barefoot?” He forged out into the wind, threw the crate into his wagon, and charged toward his cabin.

When he came back outside, she was hanging over the wagon’s side, pulling the crate toward her, hair flying everywhere.

“What’re you doing?”

“You forgot I put my boots in there.” She stopped short and pulled hair away from her eyes. “What do you have?”

He held out the new pair he’d purchased for her. “Boots.”

Her lips turned up in delicious confusion. “Those aren’t particularly feminine. They look—”

“Good for running?” He handed them to her.

“Yes.” She smiled as she ran her hand along the polished leather. “What would you have done with these if I’d chosen not to marry you?”

“Put them on the mantel as a reminder not to judge anyone for their past—just as I don’t want to be judged for mine. But if you choose to stay, Anthony would never forgive me if you
couldn’t race him anymore. He’s still convinced you can outrun me, even after watching me beat you to the buggy to save him.”

She straightened, plunking her fists on her hips, her skirts flailing wildly about her. “I could’ve beaten you if you didn’t have a head start.”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Put them on, Kate. Let me chase you down.”

With her hand tucked inside Silas’s, Kate tried not to blush while fighting the urge to slide across the wagon seat and snuggle into his side. Sitting in the school yard holding hands—not yet married—was probably too much already for any gossipers, even if Silas would make an excellent windbreak, and they’d arranged to get married after they picked up Anthony.

Why was she more nervous to recite vows in front of him today than when she’d first come?

She peered up at Silas, whose gaze roamed the school yard as the first class let out.

Did he notice how her hand trembled in his? Not from dread but anticipation.

More children poured out with hoots and hollers, and Silas squeezed her hand. “You ready?”

“For ice cream?” She licked her lips. “Can’t wait.”

He laughed and raised the back of her hand to his lips again for a quick kiss.

Oh, to slide closer and lean against him, especially with this wind whipping her hair about. She wiggled her toasty warm toes in her new wool socks and stiff boots—one place the cold wind’s icy fingers hadn’t penetrated.

She slid closer to Silas anyway. Did she really care about reputation over warmth right now? They would be married within the hour.

A little girl in pigtails and a blue pinafore skipped out of the door behind what appeared to be an older brother. Then the door shut.

After a minute, Silas frowned. “Wonder if Anthony’s talking to the teacher?”

“Has he mentioned having trouble with schoolwork?”

“He’s told you about Mrs. Owens, right? Maybe he’s in trouble.”

She nodded. “She doesn’t sound especially endearing.”

Silas’s hand tightened around hers with every child that left the yard and moved out of sight. “Too bad you aren’t still his teacher.”

She might not have been as tight-laced, but . . . “I don’t know if I was a good teacher or just kind, with so many children in one room with different abilities—”

“I’ll go in and get him.” He let go of her hand and jumped off the wagon.

Kate pulled her coat collar closer to her throat, the wind battering her from the other side now as well. Too bad Silas didn’t have a covered wagon. What if she used her two hundred dollars to buy him a carriage? No, he needed a farm wagon first and whatever else had been stolen from him that needed replaced.

Or maybe she could get Mr. Thissen to give Silas back his land.

Silas disappeared into the schoolhouse, and she shivered again. She should’ve gone with him or at least had him help her down so she could shelter beside the wagon somewhat.

She hooked her newly booted feet into the wagon wheel’s spokes and climbed down.

Just as she leaned against the wagon’s side out of the wind, the schoolhouse door slammed and Silas rushed down the stairs like a charging bull, his head swinging one way, then another.

Her body seized. “What’s wrong?” she asked once he was closer.

Silas hastened to her and held out his hand to help her climb back up. “He didn’t show up today.”

“What?”

“The teacher doesn’t know where he is.” He ran around the back of the wagon and yanked himself up onto the seat. “I thought we were good.” He strangled the reins as he turned his team and started them toward town. “After Thanksgiving, he’d been quiet, stopped being rebellious. I thought that was an improvement.”

“So you think he’s run again?” She grabbed on to her seat as the wagon jolted forward.

“Why else wouldn’t he be in school?”

She scanned the sidewalks. Though if he’d not come to school that morning . . . “Has he missed school before? Maybe he went looking for snakes.”

“It’s too cold for snakes.” Silas’s jaw was as hard as Anthony’s attitude had been the last few times she’d seen him. If only the boy wasn’t so fool stubborn, his anger would’ve melted away as he watched them get married this afternoon. But Silas was right—he’d seemed happy at Thanksgiving. Surely there was some other explanation.

She latched on to Silas’s arm, willing him to slow as she dug her fingers into his muscle. “Maybe he thinks he can find snakes anyway. We can look around the ponds and the creek near your place. Did the teacher mention anybody else missing?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t think to ask.”

“Maybe he’s with a friend. Do you know of any boys he’s bonded with?”

“He talks about the Harrisons and the Moores down on Mud Creek.”

The wagon veered sharply next to the church, yet he didn’t turn into the yard.

Her heart sank. There would be no wedding.

Oh, Anthony. Why did you run again?

Wait.
She clenched onto Silas’s tense arm. “I don’t think he’d run with me still in town.”

She waved apologetically at Mrs. Graves, who gave them an evil glare from the sidewalk, likely for going too fast—or maybe sitting too close.

“Then what do you think?” Silas skirted the ice wagon and swung around a slow-plodding carriage.

She swallowed, wishing she didn’t have to voice the thought that was turning her stomach. “Maybe Richard wanted Anthony badly enough to come out here to get him? I didn’t think to hide where I was going when I bought my train ticket.”

“No.” Silas shook his head, his eyes glazing. “Surely not.”

“Hey! Watch out!” A man jumped out of the way as Silas’s wagon wheel missed him by inches.