sorry for your loss.”
Kneading his nape, he heaved a sigh. “Look, Miss Miller, you’ve a right to be upset. My friends meant well. They’ll fix this. Will owns the Cattleman, Cowboy Creek’s premier hotel. You can stay there at his expense while you await the return train to Chicago.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about the cost of the ticket, either. It’ll be taken care of.”
Grace grasped for the right words. “Have you ever considered your friends may be right?”
His hand slapped to his side. “I don’t take your meaning, ma’am.”
“Perhaps they see a need in your life you haven’t yet acknowledged. Why else would they do something so outrageous as to arrange a marriage for you without your consent?”
She could practically hear his teeth grinding together. “Are you suggesting I don’t know my own mind?”
Grace was accustomed to men’s displeasure. She’d endured Ambrose’s for five years. Ambrose was gone, however. If she had only herself to think about, she’d accept this mistake and walk away. But her daughters’ future was at stake. Her brother-in-law, Frank, would do anything to make her his, including threatening to separate her from Jane and Abigail if she didn’t comply with his wishes. She had to pursue her daughters’ best interests, no matter if she had to get on her knees and beg this man to take her as his bride.
“I’m suggesting you give marriage to me some thought before you send me packing. I’m a proficient housekeeper.” She indicated the cabin’s clean but sparse interior. “I can sew. Cook. Surely you don’t have time to prepare adequate meals with all your other responsibilities.”
His expression frustratingly inscrutable, he raked her with his cool blue gaze. His clear dismissal threatened to deflate her already shaky self-confidence.
Humiliation licking her insides, she lifted her chin. “I may appear incompetent, but I assure you, Mr. Burgess, I know how to make myself useful.”
He studied her a moment longer. “Go back to your pampered life in the city, Miss Miller. I don’t know what sort of glamorous accounts you’ve read about life out here, but they ain’t reality. One week on this homestead, and you’d be begging me to send you back.”
Surely it was her appearance he was judging, not her, the woman. He didn’t know her. Couldn’t see her soul, her heart. “You’re wrong. I can prove you’re wrong.”
A long-suffering sigh pulsed between his lips. “Let me be plain. It doesn’t matter to me whether you’re prairie material or not. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want you or any other woman.” He jerked a thumb to the open doorway. “I’ve just come off a three-day search for a gang of outlaws. I’m tired and hungry, and I need to see to my horse. So if you’ll excuse—”
Behind her, the bedroom door creaked open. “Momma?”
Grace froze. Exhausted from the interminable train ride, the girls had been drooping by the time they’d reached the homestead. She’d put them in the only bed in the house.
The intractable sheriff’s focus shot past her, his eyes going wide. He blinked several times.
“You have a kid?”
“As a matter of fact, I have two.”
Kids? She had kids? “I thought it was Miss Miller.”
“You assumed.”
The ardor with which she’d spoken moments ago cooled, and Noah witnessed a mother’s protective instincts surface. She beckoned to the little girls hovering in the doorway, a loving smile urging them not to be frightened. They had obviously been sleeping in his bed. Through the opening, he could see that the plain wool blanket atop his straw-stuffed mattress was creased.
Children were a rarity in these parts. As were females, which was precisely why Daniel, Will and the other businessmen had conspired to locate willing mail-order brides. The railroad terminus had boosted their itinerant population, but they needed families to grow this town.
Huddling close to their mother’s side, they watched him wordlessly. Their dark brown hair and delicate features resembled hers. White aprons overlay their dresses, both solid navy blue, and frilly pantaloons were visible from the knee down. Sturdy round-toed shoes completed the outfits.
“Girls, this is the gentleman I told you about. Mr. Burgess owns this homestead. He’s also the sheriff of Cowboy Creek.” She ran a hand over the nearest one’s rumpled sausage curls. “This is Abigail.”
Big chocolate-brown eyes regarded him solemnly.
Constance reached over and touched the second one’s shoulder. “And this is Jane.”
Jane’s bright blue eyes danced with curiosity. Her skin was a shade lighter than her sister’s, and freckles were sprinkled liberally across her nose and cheeks.
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Jane offered.
Abigail kept silent. Circling her mother’s waist with her tiny arms, she hid her face in the voluminous skirts.
“How old are they?”
“They recently celebrated their sixth birthday.”
Twins. Not identical, but there could be no mistaking they were kin.
Noah’s gaze skimmed Constance’s petite but curvaceous frame. Back home in Virginia, a neighbor woman had died giving birth to twins. The babies had perished, as well. He’d overheard his ma saying how dangerous the business of birthing one child could be, much less two. And that woman had been several inches taller and larger boned than the one standing before him.
“Where’s their father?”
“Passed on a year ago.”
There wasn’t a flicker of grief in Constance Miller’s steady gaze. The girls didn’t react, either, which told him they were either too young to grasp the permanency of death or they hadn’t shared a close relationship with the man.
His interest grew. Why was she dead set on hitching herself to a complete stranger? Had he misjudged her financial status? For all he knew, the clothes and jewelry were all that was left of her late husband’s wealth. She could be destitute. With small children depending on her, of course she’d be willing to marry anyone who struck her as decent.
Had she somehow discovered Noah’s worth? The Union Pacific had paid him a small fortune for his original homestead because of its proximity to town and the terminus. He’d used a portion of that money to purchase this new tract of land farther outside town. The rest of it he’d placed in the bank for a rainy day.
The trio stood watching him, waiting for him to speak. His ire stirred anew. His friends had put him in an untenable position.
Snagging his hat, he settled it on his head.
