what might have become of her.
For the millionth time, Rainee wished she had secured her funds underneath her skirt. Her personal maid and dear friend Jenetta had advised her to do so, but once again Rainee’s stubbornness had overruled any such logic.
Many times her father had warned her that her stubbornness would get her into trouble one day. He feared he would not be able to secure a husband for her because of her flawed temperament. Inwardly Rainee sighed. So far, Father was right. Well, that was not entirely accurate. Many a man had pursued her. Not because of any burst of feeling toward her but because of her father’s money. Except one man. And she would rather go live with savage Indians than marry him.
Mr. Bowen cleared his throat. She looked up at him.
“That your trunk?”
“Yes.” Rainee glanced at the medium-size chest containing everything she owned. With a weighty sigh, she decided to not think about what and whom she had been forced to leave behind. It was all too vexing. And so was this man’s aloofness toward her. Gone was the warmness his letters contained. Perhaps his journey had tired him. That she understood. Tiredness had seeped into her bones until every part of her ached with fatigue.
She watched him lift the trunk as if it weighed no more than one of the plumes on her hat. He stepped off the platform and headed around the corner of the stagecoach stop. Rainee followed him, careful to keep her eyes anywhere but on his retreating form. One glimpse of his leg muscles had been enough to make her chastise herself for acting like a wanton woman instead of the lady she had been brought up to be.
Once her belongings were secured on the wagon, he headed to the front of the buckboard where she stood, and he extended his hand.
Rainee glanced at his large palm, admiring the strength of it, then looked up at him. Impatience covered his face. She quickly placed her satchel and parasol on the wagon seat, then settled her hand in his, allowing him to help her onto the wagon. She arranged the bustle of her dress and sat, then snatched her satchel and parasol off of the seat and placed them in her lap. “Thank you, sir.”
He responded with a curt nod.
Turning her head away from him, she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and whistle away the awkwardness. She knew their meeting would be uncomfortable, but she had not anticipated it being quite this bad. Then again, what did she expect? That the moment he laid eyes on her, he would declare his undying love and sweep her off her feet, and they would live happily ever after?
Hah. In a pig’s eye. She shuttered at the expression. It must be the length of the trip or the hot sun or the man readying the horses and the wagon—something—because every thought she had was taking her places she did not want to go.
Besides, those kinds of things only happened in the dime novels she and her best friend used to sneak into her room and read. Until the day her mother had discovered them. After a long lecture, she forced Rainee to toss them into the fire. It broke her heart watching the edges curl into black ashes. They were her only reprieve from the stuffy social world she lived in, a world overrun with rules of proper etiquette, rules she had a hard time obeying because they all seemed so meaningless and empty.
The wagon seat dipped, jolting Rainee’s mind from past shadows. She looped the handle of her satchel over her wrist and opened her parasol, careful to keep it out of Mr. Bowen’s way. Careful to keep herself out of his way as well.
His arm brushed against hers, and his broad shoulders took up a goodly portion of the now cramped seat.
Leather, trail dust, and a scent that reminded her of her father after he had shaved drifted up her nostrils. More reminders of home. A home that no longer existed.
Once again, she could not believe she was about to marry a complete stranger. One she had placed an advertisement for. That act alone was scandalous. Claws of dread pierced her insides as she realized once again what she had done. The need for air threatened to swallow her up, but she sat up straighter and fought for every breath. No fainting spell would overtake her. Not this time. Though they had been a problem in the past, she vowed as of this moment she would fight them with all her might.
Mr. Bowen snapped the reins. The wagon lurched forward and Rainee clutched the side of the seat to keep from jostling into him, but her shoulder collided with his anyway, and their eyes connected and held for the briefest of moments.
Long after he turned away, however, the memory of his eyes the color of sparkling sapphires stayed with her. Eyes that were handsome but held no warmth. Only a sort of detachment and something else she could not identify. This was going to be a very long ride indeed.
Haydon couldn’t wait to deliver the woman to his brother. This well-bred, beautiful woman sitting next to him was the kind he now avoided like poison ivy because they were shallow and cared about nothing but fancy balls and frippery. Appearance and financial status were everything to them. And he’d had his fill of that type of woman.
“Mr. Bowen.”
He wanted to ignore her but his conscience and upbringing wouldn’t allow him to be rude. “Yes?” Haydon gave her a quick glance.
“You said in one of your letters you lived in Paradise Haven with your family.”
His body tensed. He didn’t write those letters, so he had no idea of their contents. No knowledge about what her response had been. What her advertisement was about. Haydon shifted his weight and ran his thumbs over the leather reins.
He looked toward the mountain dotted with several clapboard buildings and mining shafts as he struggled with what to say or do, wishing he could flee into one of those mines and hide out until this whole mess was over and done with.
“Would you mind telling me about them?” Her soft voice was a tad shaky, but her asking spoke of a confidence he couldn’t deny.
He let out a breath of relief. At least that he could answer. “My brother Jesse is twenty.” He glanced at her, then back at the dirt road. “His wife’s name is Hannah. They’re expecting their first child in a few months. They have their own place on the ranch. My brother Michael is sixteen. My sister Leah is thirteen and Abby is five. They live in the big house with my mother.”
“What about you? Where do you live?” Words poured from her mouth like thick honey. Sweetness and innocence surrounded this woman. This woman he wanted to get away from as quickly as possible, he reminded himself. Even though she seemed harmless enough, he knew just how deceiving appearances could be. His former wife Melanie had taught him that. The dread of going through something like that again twisted his gut tighter than a three-stranded rope.
“I have my own place on the ranch.” Concerned she would start asking him more questions, he decided to ask her about her home life instead. He only prayed it wasn’t something she had already shared in the letters or her advertisement because then he would have to inform her that he wasn’t the one who had sent for her. And he wasn’t going to do that. That was Jesse’s job. “What part of the South are you from?” he asked, keeping his eyes forward.
Talons of fear scraped up and down Rainee’s body. How did he know she was from the South? She had not told him that in her letters or her advertisement. She had even gone so far as to have one of her friends post her letters and advertisement in Chicago.
What should she tell him? Not one to tell falsehoods, she would have to choose her words carefully. She gathered her courage and forced herself to look at him.
“I’m
