His Brother's Wife (16 page)

Since the day she left
Boston, Grace knew the rest of her life would be an adventure.
She’d spent every moment as a child wondering what the world
outside her sheltered life held and was determined to find out.
She'd always imagined a man who loved her, wanted her to the point
he couldn't stop touching her. When her father died, alone and near
penniless, she’d made a promise to herself to have everything her
heart desired.

She'd set out the month
after her father's funeral, planning the rest of her life. She sold
nearly every possession they owned, including the house, and
contacted the agency that oversaw marriages to men out west. Her
friends called her crazy, had begged her not to do something so
insane, but she'd ignored them all. She wanted an adventure and by
God she was going to have one.

She just never expected
her adventure to end up with her promised to a fourteen year old
boy and wanting his brother instead. A man, who incidentally,
tossed around soul-stealing kisses, then ran off to town for the
companionship of a whore.

Her chest ached the longer
she thought about it. Grace sat in her rocker, contemplating her
life until long after Jesse came upstairs and shut his door. The
house was quiet, the only sounds being the floorboards creaking
occasionally and the wind whistling past the windows. She dozed off
in her chair and woke with a start at the sound of a door
closing.

She looked out the window.
The moon had shifted across the sky. A few hours had passed since
coming to her room. Was Jesse up and about or had Rafe come home
from the saloon? A vision of him and one of those girls flashed
across her mind again. Her anger returned before she decided she
didn’t care.

Standing, she removed her
dress, washed her face and body and brushed out her
hair.

Climbing into bed, she
made a mental note to go through the dresses she still had packed
in her trunks. She’d promised Mrs. Jenkins at the mercantile she’d
bring some by to sell, along with a few bits of her
jewelry.

If she was lucky, she'd
make enough money from the sale to spend a few weeks in the hotel
in town. That would make her search for a husband easier. Living
with Jesse and Rafe was going to play havoc with her reputation,
but surely there was someone in this town who needed a wife more
than he cared about gossip. And if she were lucky, she’d be able to
accept a marriage proposal and forget all about Rafe Samuels. A
prospect that even now made her chest ache and caused her heart to
scream out in denial.

Chapter Fifteen

Rafe was awakened by the
sound of banging pots and pans. He cracked one eye open and looked
toward the window. The sky was starting to lighten and he sighed
and rolled over before slinging his legs over the side of the bed
and sitting up.

He scrubbed a hand through
his hair and yawned, jumping when a crash sounded in the kitchen.
He gained his feet and rushed to the door, flinging it open and
looked into the kitchen.

Grace was at the stove,
her back to him. She was wearing another of those ill-fitting
homespun dresses, in a peach color this time, and her hair was once
again pulled into a tight bun. He smiled while looking at her and
yawned again before leaning against the doorframe. “A man would
think you’re trying to wake him with all the racket you’re
making.”

The look she threw him
when she turned startled him. Her brows were lowered, the
glowering, heated glance singeing him where he stood. He
straightened and unfolded his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes were icy and
unresponsive as she turned back to the stove and removed the coffee
pot, slamming it onto the table with a bang. A frying pan joined
it, eggs still simmering. He watched her walk to the shelf above
the sink, grab the plates and drop them on the table as well. When
she turned, he nearly flinched. Her large violet eyes smoldered
with fire.

“Your breakfast is ready.
Clean up when you’re finished.”

She turned and left the
kitchen, leaving him to stand there staring at the empty space
she’d been. “What the hell just happened?”

Jesse entered the room
moments later, a questioning look on his face. “What’d you say to
Grace? I ain't never seen her mad before.”

Rafe opened his mouth but
nothing came out. He hadn’t said anything to upset her. Had he? He
puzzled over her behavior for long moments before shaking his head.
“Hell if I know.”

He shut his door and
dressed, combed his hair and made his way to the kitchen. Jesse was
already eating and Rafe grimaced at what Grace had made them. Eggs.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if there had been something else to
kill their taste but she hadn’t bothered. None of the warm buttery
biscuits he'd come to look forward to. No bacon. Just… eggs.
Scrambled, barely, the slimy, wet stirrings glistening up from the
pan.

He looked at Jesse as he
reached for the coffee pot. The kid was eating like he hadn’t eaten
in months. Apparently watery eggs didn’t bother him. They bothered
him though. Just looking at them made him queasy.

Taking his seat, his
thoughts went to Grace. Something was very wrong. She was upset but
about what? Was it his reaction to her yesterday morning? Surely
the woman wasn’t still chaffed about that?

Of course, he had stolen a
kiss from her and then pretended it didn't happen. Had even went so
far as to be rude to her, insulted her looks and left without
another word. He didn’t know much about women but he was pretty
sure that would offend one.

Taking a sip of his
coffee, he grimaced and then choked. Yeah, she was mad at him all
right. He’d tasted better coffee after reusing the grounds for a
week.

Standing, he dumped the
coffee in the sink and grabbed his coat. He’d just wait until lunch
to eat. Maybe her temper would be cooled by then.

He walked out into the
crisp morning air. Frost covered everything in sight. The trees
were shedding their leaves, the wind rustling the drying
branches.

Making his way to the
barn, he turned up his collar and lowered his head. Once inside, he
stood staring at the animals as they stirred.

Winter was coming on
faster than he’d like. There was so much to do yet and he wouldn’t
have time to do everything he needed to get done. There were
repairs to be made, the fence line to check, the house needed to be
winterized and….

He sighed. The list was
too long. He’d never get it all done. Not with Jesse fighting him
every second of the day. Maybe Grace was right. Maybe Jesse balked
about helping out because he really wanted to be in school. He’d
still have chores to do but nothing like he did now. He made a
mental note to ask him about it later and started his own
chores.

The day wore on quickly
and he was sweating and fighting hunger pains by mid-morning. He
stepped out of the barn with plans to sneak into the kitchen for
something to tide him over when he spotted Grace coming toward the
barn backwards, her delightful derriere in the air, as she dragged
something in his direction. He watched her for long moments before
pulling off his gloves and crossing the yard. “What are you
doing?”

She straightened and
flashed him a scathing look. “I need to go into town. Please hitch
up the wagon for me.”

Rafe raised his eyebrow
and looked down at his feet. One of her trunks was there, the lid
locked into place. Why was she dragging her trunk? His first
instinct was, she’s leaving, but he discarded it. She would have
made him haul her stuff out if that were the case.

Crossing his arms over his
chest, he tilted his head to one side. “Why do you need the
wagon?”

“I’m going into town and I
just told you as much. Please do as I asked and stop staring at me
like that.” She leaned down again, grabbed the trunk by its side
handle and started pulling it to the barn.

Rafe watched her, amused,
for long moments before heaving a frustrated sigh. “Grace.” She
glanced up at him and fire still burned in her eyes. “You can’t go
into town by yourself.”

That stopped her. She
straightened again, braced her hands on her hips and scowled. “And
just why not?”

He held back a grin and
crossed the yard to where she stood. “Well, for one, you can’t
handle the wagon alone.”

“Says who?
You?”

Damn if she wasn’t even
pretty mad. Her cheeks were flushed; a few tendrils of hair that
had fallen loose from the tight bun she’d pulled her hair into were
curled about her face. The navy blue material of her dress
contrasted nicely with her skin tone and was cut low enough in the
front it didn’t take much for his imagination to drive him half
crazy with desire. His cock took notice the instant his gaze
settled on those creamy breasts. He shook his head and raised his
eyes to her face. “Why do you need to go to town?”

“None of your
business.”

He did grin then. She was
fighting mad and her chest was heaving with an effort to control
her breathing. Would she pop out of that dress if he riled her
more? One could hope. “Can you handle the wagon?”

“I know horses, Mr.
Samuels. I’m sure handling the wagon won’t be
difficult.”

Mr. Samuel’s?
She was
back to using formal names, was she? He’d see about that. “That’s
not what I asked you,
Grace
. Have you ever
driven a wagon?”

She huffed out a breath.
“No, but I’ve been riding since I was old enough to sit a horse.
How difficult can it be to guide one with a wagon
attached?”

He laughed. “I have half a
mind to just let you try.”

She glared at him, her
nostrils flared. Whatever she was upset about, he’d never find out
without asking and he didn’t think she’d tell him at the moment.
She was still mad and if he had to guess, it was him she was angry
at.

Looking over his shoulder,
he saw Jesse finally make his way to the barn. Turning his
attention back to Grace, he nodded to the trunk with his head. “You
taking that into town with you?”

“Yes.”

“What’s in it?”

“None of your
business.”

He grinned again. She
wasn’t getting off that easy. “Fine. I’ll hitch up the wagon.” A
satisfied look crossed her face and Rafe hid a smile as he walked
back to the barn and led the mule from his stall. He spotted Jesse
at the lower end of the barn. “Grace needs to go to town. Finish up
your chores and get started on that woodpile out back. We’ll need
the firewood before too long.”

“Where you
going?”

“To hitch up the
wagon.”

Jesse stared at him for
long moments before his eyes widened. “You’re taking her into
town?”

“Yes.”

Jesse started across the
barn. “I’ll do it. She’s my wife.”

Rafe laughed. “The last
time I let you two go to town alone, you ended up in jail. Do your
chores, Jesse. We’ll be back before you’re done.”

Jesse stuttered, his face
turning red for an instant before he just stood there staring.
Maybe he was remembering his short stint in jail and Ben Crowley
laying a whooping on him. Whatever it was, Jesse turned without
another word and went back to mucking out the stalls.

Hooking the mule to the
wagon was done in silence and when he was finished, Rafe had half a
mind to make Grace lift the trunk by herself. Knowing that stubborn
woman, she’d try.

Huffing out a resigned
breath, he grabbed the trunk and hauled it to the wagon, letting it
drop in the back with a bang. When he looked toward the front of
the wagon, Grace was there, already trying to climb into it in a
billow of sateen skirts. He tilted his head, hoping the wind would
catch those petticoats just right and give him a flash of her
thighs.

For once the wind was
calm.

Closing the distance
between them, he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up. Her
small squeal of surprise, and the way she clung to his shoulders,
was worth all the aggravation she’d put him through today. When she
was seated, she grabbed the reins.