The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (31 page)

“As well you should be.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth and jaw. “Did he behave honorably?”

“Aye.” The answer was out before she could stop it. Why did she feel the need to defend him?

Papa moved at last, nodding and shifting away to stare at the floor, smoothing back his iron-gray hair tied in a neat queue.

Her hands knotted in her apron again. “Should we—can we—inform someone? I know Magistrate Brown doesn’t have the facts aright….”

“At present, there’s none other to appeal to,” Papa said. “Let me think on this. And pray. It may be—blast it all, anyway.” He shot her another dark look. “Stay close to the inn for now. If we need aught, I’ll send Johnny or Jacky. Understand me?”

She gave a mute nod, her mouth dry again.

“Thank you for telling me, sweet girl. It would break my heart if aught happened to you.”

And then he was gone.

She went back to the table and blew out a breath. Her mind was quite in disarray now, but her hands knew the task of pie making well enough—

A flutter of white on the windowsill—across the room, above another worktable—caught her eye. She frowned. What was that? It looked like a folded paper, but she could not remember anyone leaving anything there.

She crossed the room, reached for it, unfolded it to reveal an attempt at an elegant hand—she could tell for how sloppy it was—written with many scrolls and flourishes. Then the wording made itself clear, and her breath caught.

The morning started fine enough, rounded mountaintops shimmering against the sky and birds twittering in the clear daylight, but now the blazing sun set Sam’s head to pounding as he trudged beside the wagon. And a sickness swirled in his gut the farther they got from Brewster’s.

With every step, he was sure they shouldn’t have left.

He tipped his head to squint upward, from under the brim of his plain black hat. Nearly midday. He was used to delays, but this was ridiculous. “Are you sure this track leads back to the Great Road?” he asked Jed, who walked ahead of the team.

When they’d tried to leave town, they discovered the magistrate had men stationed both north and south on the Great Road, searching wagons and saddlebags in his effort to find the Highwayman.

“The hostler said so. Down past the mill, up along the creek, over the hill.”

“‘Twas an hour ago.”

“If you hadn’t been so slow in starting—” Jed scowled. “Why in the world did you run off? And what was so important to discuss with Mr. Brewster?”

“Last trip to the necessary,” Sam said. It wasn’t completely untrue.

But he couldn’t explain any of it, yet. Not his sudden need to have the good will of Sally’s father, nor that other small task he’d decided to carry out before they left. Would Sally even find the note before someone else did?

Better that she not expect to see him again. For her, and for him.

Lord, I believe I’ve made an awful mess of this.

“I thought you didn’t want to do this anymore?” Jed said.

“I don’t. Didn’t.” Sam swallowed his rising bile. “You know how it is, I hear something, and then—I can’t stand by and do nothing.” He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “This time, it turned out to be Sally.”

The annoyance in Jed’s expression bled to shock.

“Apparently these local boys, led by the chief justice’s son, have a habit of causing trouble. They were—well, I couldn’t let them lay hands on her like that.”

“Good Lord.”

“That He is.”

Jed laughed shortly.

“We shouldn’t have left so fast,” Sam went on.

Jed did turn on him at that, stepping out of the way of the team. “You’d rather have those boys search our wagon? We have to finish this run and get home.”

“Nay.”

But when the magistrate’s men didn’t find the Highwayman… what then? What about Sally and her family?

Oh, Lord.

“So.” Jed shot him a sidelong look. “After you rescued Sally, what happened? Did she run straight home, or did you talk to her?”

Despite his best efforts, a grin tugged at Sam’s mouth. The sick feeling disappeared for just a moment at the memory of Sally in his arms. “That, cousin, would be none of your business.”

Jed’s hooting laughter echoed across the pasture.

Chapter 5

L
ook for me by moonlight.”

And what, pray tell, had he meant by that? A moon had waxed and begun to wane, and still the mysterious Highwayman did not make another appearance.

Sally heaved a sigh and, dipping her rag in the bucket of soapy water, went back to scrubbing the table. Not a breath of air stirred in the great room and no one was about, so she’d shed her apron and gown for the work.

She was so weary of the flipping and flopping of her thoughts. The Highwayman. Sam. One who had rescued her… kissed her. The other who, at least by Papa’s reckoning, was sweet on her. She blew a stray wisp out of her face and scrubbed harder. She’d known Sam since he was a boy, traveling up the Great Road with his uncle and cousins. His uncle, complaining of rheumatism and the need to tend to matters at home, had turned the run over to Sam and Jed a handful of years before either reached their majority. All she knew of Sam before then was that his parents and young siblings perished in some terrible tragedy, and the uncle had taken him in.

Might be no wonder Sam was grave and quiet. It was better than thinking of him as dull.

Better his dullness, perhaps, than the Highwayman… of whom she knew next to nothing. A strong, workingman’s grip. A gentle kiss, despite the way he’d pulled her to him. Terrifyingly accurate with the whip. A smile flitted across her lips. No wonder lads and lasses alike were enthralled with tales of him.

He was gallant, she’d give him that. And apparently possessed of a ferociously protective nature.

Still, ‘twas hardly enough to know whether she could trust such a man. Whether he was not merely trifling with her, as she steadfastly maintained to her heart.

Her pitifully desperate heart. Sally snorted. Truly, she was no better than any other girl—

“Sally?” Mama’s voice was a soft intrusion, but insistent as always. “I believe we are out of orris root. Might you run to the market and fetch some?”

Some of the furor had died over the Highwayman’s appearance more than a fortnight ago—at the least, the magistrate gave up guarding the Great Road—but Papa hadn’t yet told her how far she might safely venture. Did she dare run to the market and back?

“Aye, Mama.”

“And while you’re at it, we’re a little low on coffee.”

Sally nodded and slid back into her blue linen gown. Mama lingered as Sally pinned the front closed and pinned and tied her apron back on, over all. “I don’t often tell you, but you’ve been an invaluable help to me.” A sad smile curved Mama’s mouth. “Your Papa thinks I’ve been working you too hard. But I’m glad you’ve always been willing, especially when Jacky was sick.”

Sally reached for her wide-brimmed straw hat and tied it at her nape. “You’re more than welcome, Mama.”

Mama handed her a small pouch of coins. “Your Papa said there’s a young man who might be interested…?”

Sally felt her face go crimson. Her breath seized.
He does not know… he cannot know… he’s thinking only of Sam.
“I—don’t know, Mama. He’s not spoken.” She slipped the pouch through the slit in her skirt and petticoats, into her pocket.

Mama’s smile warmed. “How exciting, though.”

Sally could almost hear the thoughts of her pretty, plump mother, measuring her angular height and wondering who could possibly want her. “I’ll return soon.”

She gave Mama a quick peck on the cheek then made her escape.

It was a fine, hot day, but she set a brisk pace, glad to put distance between herself and the inn for a bit.

Though the late afternoon warmth made everyone languid at the market, the dry goods seller greeted her with a cheery smile. “Tall Sally! We’ve not seen you in a week or three.”

She gave the older man a quick grin in return. “Mama’s had me a bit busy. But I’m here today.”

“And what is your pleasure this time?”

“Coffee and sugar. And some orris root. Are we still avoiding tea?”

“We are indeed, Miss Brewster, but if your mother has a hankering for it, I have some, properly smuggled and untaxed.”

She laughed. “Not this time, I’m afraid, Mr. Messer.”

While waiting for him to package her items, she lingered over a display of fine china, admiring the gold leaf and delicate rosebuds. She’d just lifted a cup and was examining the underside when a voice rumbled in her ear, “You never did give me that kiss, Tall Sally.”

It was all she could do to set the cup back down, clattering on its saucer, and not knock the whole display to the floor. One glance told her she was a hand’s breadth away from the hated leer of Willie Brown.

She twitched away, putting at least half the floor between them.

Lord… oh, Lord…

Willie leaned indolently on the counter, clad in a suit of green ditto as if he were going to a fancy dress ball and not just standing here in the store. His shoes bore a shine fit to blind the casual eye, and his dark hair was pulled back into an oh-so-stylish queue, one lock falling across his brow.

For some reason, it made her think of Sam, and his fiery blush when Jed teased him about drinking too much.

“I’m missing a lantern, Tall Sally. You wouldn’t happen to know where it went, would you?”

“Of course not,” she snapped.

Mr. Messer set her packages on the counter. She made to step around Willie, but he shifted to block her. “I’ve not forgotten,” he said, very low, “the lashing I took for you. You owe me a kiss.”

Matching him inch for inch, she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Should you be speaking to me? I’m naught but a tavern maid, after all.”

Once again he sidestepped to halt her progress.

“Willie Brown,” said the seller, “no trouble here today, please.”

“There’s no trouble,” Willie drawled. “I’m just paying compliments to one of your customers, but she seems not to appreciate them. How ungenerous of her.”

He smiled into her eyes as if daring her to defy him.

She would not budge. Dared not. “I must needs get home,
kind
sir.”

The smile widened. “It would be an honor to accompany you.”

Her body flushed hot then cold.
I would rather die!
But she smiled thinly. “Thank you, but I’ll not trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble, Miss Brewster.”

At that moment, a double patter of young boys’ feet pounded across the steps and into the store. Johnny, leading Jacky, breathless. “Sally! Mama and Papa bid you home. This minute.”

Never so relieved for the interference of her brothers, Sally bobbed to Willie, whisked her purchases into her basket, and hurried after the boys.

When they were out of earshot, Jacky said, “Papa found out Mama had sent you to market, and, oh, he was vexed. So we came after you.”

Johnny shot a glance behind them. “Did we do right? That was Willie Brown talking to you.”

“You did indeed.” She laughed, swinging her basket like a young girl. “And what do you hear lately of the Highwayman?”

Sam poked a few twigs into the small fire then sat back and surveyed the purple twilight draping the edges of majestic, rolling mountains. On such a clear, cool night, a day’s journey south of Winchester for the oxen, he and Jed had decided to camp out.

This was one of his favorite stretches of the Great Road, truth be told. He loved the entire Shenandoah Valley, from above the James River to up past Winchester. Though Charlotte Towne nestled in a pretty enough area, the river valley called to him as few places did.

Maybe that had something to do with why he’d fallen in love with Sally. Or maybe it was Sally who made him love the valley.

Sweet Sally of the river valley.

Was there ever a hope she’d look at him twice? Perhaps entertain his suit?

“So how’s it feel to be shot of the Highwayman?” Jed asked. Breaking into his best thoughts, as always.