His Brother's Wife (17 page)

“I don’t think so,
darling.” He took them from her, leveled her with a look, and
climbed into the wagon beside of her.

She let out a small gasp
when he nudged her with his hip, making her move over and give him
room enough to sit down. “What do you think you’re
doing?”

Rafe readjusted his hat
and flicked the reins. “What does it look like? I’m taking you into
town.”

Her mouth opened but she
didn’t say anything. When they reached the gate in front of the
house, she slid over in the seat, giving him more room. He almost
pulled her back.

They rode in silence that
stretched until Rafe was uncomfortable. He glanced at her out of
the corner of his eye and could still see the icy glare in her
eyes. He smiled and leaned forward a bit. “What are you so angry
about, Grace?” She threw him a scathing look but didn’t answer.
Just turned her nose up, crossed her arms under those perky little
breasts, and ignored him.

He studied her in silence
for long minutes, trying to think of exactly ‘when’ she’d turned
into such a shrew. It was after his remarks about her new calico
dress, the morning after their kiss. It had to be that. He glanced
back at her and cleared his throat. “Are you upset about me kissing
you, then ignoring it?”

She laughed and looked
over at him then, her eyebrows lowered. “Don’t presume I’m pining
away for you, Mr. Samuels. I may be in an unfortunate situation but
I'm far from desperate. I’d rather be married to the lowliest bum
in all of Willow Creek than a womanizing, over-bearing brute as
yourself.”

Womanizing?
Rafe
puzzled over the statement but dismissed it when he couldn't make
sense of it. His brain latched onto the other thing she'd said.
Marrying him. "That's the second time you've mentioned marriage in
my presence, Grace. I've already said that couldn't happen but I've
no objections to sharing my bed with you." He grinned. "I'll admit
I've thought of it myself. All you have to do is ask."

Chapter Sixteen

Grace gritted her teeth to
keep from screaming. How could he make jokes about the
situation?

She'd spent the last few
weeks in his home, playing the part of dutiful wife, and all she'd
received for her trouble was a kiss so passionate she had trouble
thinking of anything else.

He'd ignored her the
following day, been rude, insulted her, and then stayed out all
night doing Lord knew what. And in all that time, he still hadn't
said a single word about that kiss. No explanation.
Nothing.

And now he was teasing her
about letting him bed her? She ignored him until they reached the
outskirts of town.

“
Where to,
Ms.
Kingston
?”

“The mercantile, please.”
She overlooked the hint of sarcasm in his tone while calling her,
Ms. Kingston. She’d called him by his proper name every now and
again, too. Mostly when she was upset with him, which seemed to be
a lot lately.

When he stopped in front
of the only store in town, she stood. Rafe jumped from the wagon
and turned toward her then, holding his arms up to her. She wanted
to refuse his help but would end up face first on the rickety
sidewalk if she did.

Leaning down, she grabbed
his shoulders and sucked in a breath when his hands encircled her
waist. Her feet hit the sidewalk but he didn’t let go. He just
stood there staring down at her, the heat from his hands branding
her waist.

A glance at his face and
she wanted to take back every mean spirited word she’d ever thought
about him. He was simply too beautiful for words and even knowing
he’d used her and stole that kiss, she still couldn’t hate
him.

Simple truth was, she was
upset because he didn't seem inclined to do it again.

She let go of him and
pulled away, stepping around him and entering the store. He could
bring her trunk in or not. Someone inside the store would get it
for her if he refused.

Mrs. Jenkins gave her a
tiny smile when she entered and Grace returned it as she made her
way to the counter. The store had a few customers and she waited
until their business was conducted before disturbing the
shopkeeper.

When the last customer
left, Grace laid her ridicule on the counter and pasted on a cheery
smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Jenkins. I’ve brought you some dresses
to look at and a few pieces of jewelry.”

Mrs. Jenkins’ eyes lit up.
“Wonderful. Can I see them?”

Grace nodded and turned to
look outside. Rafe was leaning back against the wagon, arms folded
over his chest. He was staring at her. She inhaled deeply and
started for the door, pausing before pulling it open, and stepping
outside. “Would you mind bringing the trunk in?”

He didn’t say a word, just
pushed off the wagon and reached into the back to grab her trunk,
carrying it inside and setting it on the floor. “What’s in the
trunk, Grace? I could hear things rattling around in
there.”

His voice was pitched low
but Grace knew Mrs. Jenkins had heard. She ignored him and
unlatched the lock. A multitude of colored sateen caused Mrs.
Jenkins’ smile to widen before she dropped to her knees and grabbed
the first dress. Grace walked to the other side, pulling out the
hats and hoped they hadn’t been crushed.

“You going to sell me all
of these?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

“Yes. There’s jewelry in a
small case in the bottom. Everything can go. I have no need for
it.”

Grace had barely
straightened before Rafe grabbed her arm, turned her and
practically dragged her outside. When he stopped and faced her, she
shot him a glare. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Samuels. I was in the
middle of something, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Why are you selling your
dresses, Grace?” He glanced back into the store before returning
his attention to her. “If it’s to buy more homespun dresses, don’t
bother. I prefer your fancy things to those ill-fitting calico’s
you’ve been wearing.”

There was a compliment
buried in there somewhere but Grace chose to ignore it. “I’ve a
need for my own money.”

“What for? Anything you
need I can provide, even those plain, dowdy dresses.”

She stared at him, wondering where his change of heart had
come from. She plainly heard him ask her if she’d spent
his
money on her dress yesterday morning and he didn’t seem
pleased by the notion. “I’ve all the dresses I need at the
moment.”

He crossed his arms over
his chest again and stared down at her. He was getting good at
looking imposing. “Then why do you need money?”

A small glimmer of
something crossed his face and Grace almost labeled it as fear. She
discarded the idea. What would he be afraid of? “My desire to have
my own money is my concern.”

He stared at her, the
expression on his face unreadable. When he looked away, she shook
her head and walked back into the store.

Mrs. Jenkins had unpacked
all the dresses, pairing them with hats and jewelry to match. Grace
smiled. “Lovely, Mrs. Jenkins. I’m sure the ladies in town will
snatch these off your shelves before they've even had time to air
out completely.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will.
Do you want store credit or cash?”

“Cash if you have
it.”

Mrs. Jenkins nodded and
walked back to the counter. “What will you take for the lot of
it?”

Grace looked at the
dresses. They had cost her father a small fortune but she knew
she’d never make back their worth. Not in a town as small as Willow
Creek. “What are they worth to you? I know what price they’d fetch
in Boston but I’ve no idea how things work out here. Just give me a
fair price for them and I’ll be happy.”

Mrs. Jenkins smiled and
told her to wait a few moments. Grace watched her disappear behind
the curtained doorway and turned to browse the tables lined up
behind her. The bell above the door rang and she smiled as a man
entered. He was nice looking, strongly built and was accompanied by
a young boy. Or was that a girl?

“I’m not wearing no
stinking dress, Pa!”

The man cringed at the
child's shrieking voice. “You’ll wear exactly what I say, now quit
your fussing.” He looked over at Grace as he passed, tipped his hat
and moved to a row of small dresses hanging on the back wall. Grace
wondered if he was married. With a child, she assumed he
was.

When Mrs. Jenkins
reentered the room, Grace walked back to the counter. “So, what
have you decided?”

Mrs. Jenkins looked over
at the man, and what she now knew was, in fact, a girl, and said,
“I’ll be with you in a moment, Holden.”

“No hurry,” he said,
turning to look at them. His gaze landed on Grace and when he
smiled, she actually blushed. He was indeed nice
looking.

“Will this do
you?”

Grace looked at the figure
Mrs. Jenkins wrote down for her and wished it were more. She didn’t
know what it cost to stay at the hotel but she had to eat too.
Surely it wouldn’t be enough but what choice did she have? She
either took Mrs. Jenkins' offer or she would be forced to stay with
Rafe and Jesse all winter. She nodded in acceptance and lifted her
head. “That will be fine. Do you have that much cash or should I
come back another day?”

“I got most of it. Will
store credit do you for the rest?”

“Yes, that will be fine.”
When Mrs. Jenkins disappeared behind the curtain again, Grace
looked outside to where Rafe had been standing. He was talking with
Marshal Avery. She wondered if it was about her but decided against
it when the marshal turned a moment later and entered the store,
leaving Rafe on the sidewalk.

He tipped his hat to her
when he shut the door behind him. “Ma’am.”

“Good morning, Marshal.
You’re not here to arrest me again, are you?”

He smiled and Grace
wondered if he was unmarried. The marshal was nice looking, in that
rugged cowboy kind of way. A few days worth of stubble covered his
chin, his hat was tilted down in the front and his clothes looked
as if he’d slept in them. Her suspicion that he was unmarried took
on a new life, then. Surely a wife wouldn’t let her husband walk
around town so unkempt. Especially not the town marshal.

“Not unless you give me
reason to,” he said, answering her question.

Grace snapped out of her
musings and smiled. “I haven’t planned on it today.”

“Uncle Morgan, tell pa to
not make me wear no girly dress!”

The shrill squeal startled
Grace and she turned to see the girl, who was dressed in trousers,
a dirty shirt and a battered hat come racing across the store. When
she stopped by the marshal, Grace looked over to the man who’d come
into the store with her. He was walking their way, his gaze intent
on her. She smiled and straightened her spine.

When he stopped by the
marshal, Grace looked between the two men. There was a strong
resemblance between them. Both were tall with dark hair and rugged
looks. The girl had called the marshal uncle so they had to be
related. “Your brother, I assume?”

Marshal Avery nodded and
looked at the other man. “Yes. This is Holden.” He looked down at
the girl and put his hand on her back. “And my niece,
Alexandra.”

“Alex!” the little girl
yelled. “I done told you I don’t like that sissy name.”

Grace could only stare.
Not only was the child loud but she had no manners whatsoever.
There was no way this child had a mother. Looking up at Holden,
Grace gave him a curious look.

“I promise she wasn’t
raised in a barn,” he said. “She just acts like it.”

Grace forced a smile onto
her face. “Oh, well manners can be taught.”

“That's what my wife keeps
telling me.”

Grace kept smiling despite
her disappointment. "So, you're married?"

She barely heard the
marshal make his excuses before he left, she was so absorbed in
what Holden was saying. If he himself wasn't available, surely he
knew of a man in town who would be willing to marry her.