The Substitute Bride. Janet Dean
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Decency demanded she tell him she wasn’t his bride. But if she did, would he insist she take the next train back? She needed time to think. To take a look at the town and see if she could find employment here.
She couldn’t forget the importance of that farm, the fulfillment of her brother’s dream. If only that didn’t mean she had to marry the man, and all that entailed. She shivered. Well, she wasn’t foolish enough to give her heart to this man.
Through narrowed eyes, he looked her over. “I expected you to have brown hair.”
She gulped. “You don’t like my hair?”
“The color of your hair doesn’t matter a whit.”
“Glad to hear it.” She leaned toward him. “And so you know, I happen to like the color of yours. It’s lighter than I expected, but it’s tolerable.”
His lips twisted up at one corner, as if they tried to smile without his approval. “I can’t decide if I like a woman talking to me like that. Especially one I’m about to marry.”
Elizabeth’s stomach flipped at the mention of matrimony, a subject she intended to avoid. Her gaze traveled to a field of cows grazing not far from the tracks. “It’s better than talking to the cows, isn’t it?”
With a large hand, he gently tilted her face to his. “Yep. And a far sight better view.”
A woozy feeling slid over her. Without thinking, she grabbed hold of his arm for support. And found rock-hard muscle. Beneath her feet, the ground shifted. She hadn’t eaten in what seemed like forever. That had to be the reason for her vertigo.
He gave her a smirk and pulled away. “I’ll get the rest of your things.”
“Things? Oh, my luggage.” Once he discovered she had no trunk, he’d send her back. Without money for food or housing, how would she take care of Robby? Moisture beaded her upper lip. “I, ah, left the trunk unattended in Chicago, only for a minute.” With guilt at her lie niggling at her, she added, “When I returned, it was gone.”
“Everything you bought with the money I sent—is gone?”
She nodded. Twice. “I’m sorry.”
“Didn’t you think to check it?”
“Didn’t you ever make a mistake?” she fired back.
“Sure have,” he said, arms folded across his chest, “but I’ve never lost all my clothes.”
She grabbed a fistful of skirt. “Well, neither have I.”
He sighed. “We’ll have to stop at the mercantile.”
If only she’d had time to gather her clothes scattered across the lawn. “I’ll make do.”
Waving a hand at her dress, he arched a brow. “With only that frippery to wear day and night?”
“That frippery is silk shantung, I’ll have you know.” She poked the rumpled lapel of his suit. “Do you think you’re qualified to judge my fashion sense?”
He grinned, a most appealing smile. Or would be if he wasn’t the most exasperating man she’d ever met.
“It’s not your fashion sense I’m questioning.”
Determined to stare him down, she held his gaze. Neither of them gave ground as travelers swept past them, tossing an occasional curious glance their way. “I’m smarter than you think.”
“Smart enough to sew a new dress?”
“I can sew.” She ducked her head. Did embroidering pillow slips count?
“We’ll purchase fabric, whatever you need later.”
Perhaps the store could use a clerk. The possibility eased the tension in her limbs. Instead of arguing with him, she’d better keep her head if she hoped to escape this mess. But without food she could barely keep on her feet.
Ted plopped his straw hat in place then took the satchel from her. “Better get moving. The preacher’s waiting.”
His words cut off her air supply as effectively as if he’d wrapped those large hands of his around her windpipe and squeezed. “So soon?”
“Did you expect to be courted first?”
She’d expected to remain single but wouldn’t say that. “Well…no.”
Behind them, the locomotive emitted a whistle, the call of “All aboard!” Wheels turned, picking up speed as the train chugged out of the station, taking with it her means of escape.
Elizabeth’s eyes roamed what appeared to be the town’s main street. Maybe she could find work here, though not a solitary establishment looked prosperous. She gnawed her lip and faced the truth. Unless a shop needed a clerk who could recite the multiplication tables while pouring tea, she had slim chance of finding employment.
Hysteria bubbled up inside her. She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the compulsion to laugh. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Thankfully, the giddy sensation passed, replaced with the heavy weight of responsibility. Robby was depending on her, not a laughing matter.
Ted took hold of her elbow and ushered her along the platform. “We both know this marriage is one of convenience, a business arrangement.”
Exactly what she wanted to hear, wasn’t it? Then why did his words sting like a slap? Well, business arrangement or not, how could she wed a stranger? Elizabeth dug in her heels and yanked out of his grasp. “I…I can’t. I can’t marry you.”
Ted turned to her, searching her face. His expression softened. He took her hand in his and ran his thumb along the top. Her stomach dipped. His gentle touch gave her a measure of comfort…and far too much awareness of the man.
“This isn’t easy for either of us,” he said, his eyes filling with tenderness. “But I want you to know, I’ll be kind to you. Work hard to provide for you. I don’t have much, but all I have is yours.”
Elizabeth didn’t want to marry, but what choice did she have? She didn’t know a soul in this town. Didn’t have a penny to her name. Didn’t have a single idea what to do. That made her—a desperate woman.
A desperate woman with a proposal on the table.
A proposal that would solve all her problems.
Except this proposal was permanent—and offered to another woman. What would Ted say once he knew her true identity?
“My farm isn’t much,” he continued, his voice steady, calm. “But with God providing the sunshine and rain, the earth gives back what I put into it.”
Such a simple yet profound statement. This man gave instead of took. He relied on hard labor, not luck. Ted Logan had planted his feet, appeared as solid as the earth he worked, the exact opposite of her father.
“I have