guess not,” he said, hearing the sheriff’s message clearly. He’d just been told to get his business done and move on. Apparently, Peppin didn’t tolerate strangers coming through and causing trouble. Nathan wasn’t looking to cause trouble and he certainly wasn’t planning to leave Peppin anytime soon. He had too much to stick around for, like that red-headed woman he’d promised to return to. When he stepped outside, Delilah’s whinny was just the distraction he needed after visiting the jail. He stepped close to the large black mare to tenderly stroke her nose.
“You knew I’d come for you, didn’t you, girl?”
She blew out a puff of air onto his hand. Then with a final wary glance toward the town jail, he stepped into the saddle and turned the mare toward the O’Brien place.
Kate leaned on the kitchen table with her elbow while she placed her chin in her palm. As she turned the next page of the family Bible, she realized she’d barely skimmed the past few verses. Dissatisfied, she closed the large book and sank despondently into the chair. She had already finished the laundry. Most of their clothes were flapping in the wind outside while she waited inside for the stranger to return. If he returned.
She was beginning to wonder if the whole thing had just been a big ruse between the pair of strangers. They were probably both thieves. Now not only had she lost a number of her family’s few valuable possessions but she’d also lost Pa’s horse. She groaned. What had made her think she could trust that man?
The sound of horse hooves in the barnyard drew her gaze toward the kitchen doorway. Rising from her chair, she hurried to the living room window to peer out. The stranger rode into the barnyard on his large black horse with her bay trailing after it. Relief poured from her lips in a heavy sigh.
Her relief did not change the resolve that filled her being. She was going to get some answers from this man. Her determination did not fade as she opened the door and marched toward the barn. It did not falter when she caught up to him or while she watched him loop the horses’ reins around his hands to walk them into the barn. It was only when his friendly gaze met hers that it wavered.
“I found him, but he can’t be more than fourteen,” he said as they stepped into the relative coolness of the barn. “The sheriff isn’t sure what to do with him. He isn’t from around here and doesn’t claim to have any family.”
Take your time, she reminded herself as he guided the horses to their stalls. She waited as he removed the saddle from her horse to place it back where it belonged. He repeated the process with the reins and bridle, then glanced up questioningly. She opened her mouth to speak but he was already asking, “Where’s the brush?”
She blinked. “It’s on the shelf near the bridles. I’ll get it.”
She moved toward the hooks, then glanced up at the shelf trying to see over its edge. Her father had been much taller than her and, as a result, everything was nearly out of her reach. It took a moment for her to spot it. “There it is.”
“I see it,” Nathan said at the same time.
Her hand reached it a moment before his did. She stilled as his hand covered hers. She pulled the brush down half expecting him to release it, half hoping he wouldn’t. He didn’t. She turned toward him and slowly glanced up past his blue checkered shirt to his face. His gaze solemnly slipped over her features. She swallowed. “There’s something I have to ask you.”
His gaze met hers.
She lifted her chin. “Who are you and why are you here?”
He frowned and released her hand. “What do you mean, who am I?”
“While we’re at it, how do you know my name?”
“Why shouldn’t I know your name? I am Nathan Rutledge and you are Kate—”
“O’Brien,” she finished. “Yes, I know that.”
“Rutledge,” he reminded.
“What?”
“Rutledge.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because your name used to be—” He paused and looked at her for a second. “You mean to tell me that you, Kathleen ‘O’Brien,’ have never even heard my name before today?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
He began to speak, then shook his head and strode over to where his saddlebag rested near Delilah’s stall. “I suppose you’d better have a look at this.”
She took the piece of paper he extended to her. She glanced up as she unfolded it. “What is this?”
“It’s our marriage certificate,” he replied quietly.
“What?” Her gaze held his before she stared down at the certificate. “You don’t mean—”
“I mean,” he interrupted with quiet authority, “that you, Kate O’Brien Rutledge, are my wife.”
Chapter Two
“I don’t understand how you could marry me without my consent,” Kate said as she handed him a glass of water, then settled onto the dark green settee in the living room a few minutes later.
He sat at the other end of the settee, then turned toward her. “What are you talking about? You signed the affidavit.”
“I signed it but I never intended to send it,” she admitted.
A confused frown marred his face. “I don’t understand.”
She bit her lip. “Mr. Rutledge, I’m afraid my family owes you an apology.”
“An apology?”
She pulled in a deep breath. “Let me explain how this started.”
She watched a myriad of emotions flit across his face as she carefully explained what her siblings had done. Shock, confusion and disappointment battled for dominance before a bemused, disbelieving smile settled upon his lips. Once she finished, his gaze strayed to the saddle bag he’d set on the low walnut table in front of them. “So your little brother and sister are the ones who wrote the letters.”
“I’m afraid so.”
He watched her carefully. “Were they also the ones who sent the affidavit?”
“They must have because I certainly didn’t.”
He nodded, then looked as though he didn’t know what else to say. An uncomfortable silence filled the living room. What was she supposed to do now? She shrugged. “You’re welcome to stay and help me sort this out when they get home.”
“Thank you.”
Silence again. She glanced around the room for something to do and her gaze landed on his saddle bag. Meeting his gaze, she asked, “Is there any chance I could see one of those letters?”
“Of course,” he said, then pulled out several letters from
