with your accent that you were. But then again—” he rubbed his chin “—your mannerisms remind me of some of our neighbors back East. They were British.”
Rainee’s muscles relaxed.
“My Father was raised in England, and my mother was raised in the South.” Before he could ask her any further questions, she plucked up her courage to say what she had wanted to say back at Prosperity Mountain. “Mr. Bowen, I know you must think it quite strange for a woman to post an advertisement in search of a husband. But please believe me when I say I had no other choice.”
Her brother had seen to that.
Chapter Two
“Mr. Bowen? I am sorry to disturb you, but could I trouble you to stop? I am in need of a break.”
He looked at her flushed face and the damp tendrils of hair clinging to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have let you rest a while before we left Prosperity.” Remorse for his ungentleman-like manner and his inconsideration doused him with shame.
With her head tilted off to the side, questioning eyes peered out from under the brim of her hat. Sensing it took a lot for her to ask, he wanted to put her at ease. “I could use a break myself. Whoa, Lulu. Whoa, Sally.” He pulled on the horses’ reins. The tack jingled and the wagon creaked as it came to a stop.
He hopped down and set the brake, then wrapped the reins around it.
The woman beside him rose and closed her parasol, leaving it and her handbag on the seat before moving toward him.
He reached up toward her. When she placed her hands on his shoulders and he sprawled his hands around her small waist, feelings long buried deep inside him poked through the protective wall he’d built around his heart.
He hurried to set her down and once he knew she was stable on her feet, he extradited himself from her as fast as possible.
“Thank you.” Her gaze trailed toward a small creek. “Please excuse me.”
As much as his gut wanted him to, he couldn’t leave her to traverse the rocky ground by herself. Thin rock and rough terrain wouldn’t bode well with her fancy dress. Haydon retrieved two canteens from the back of the wagon. “Allow me to help you.” Even though he didn’t want to touch her again, he slung aside the turbulent feelings raging inside him and clutched her elbow to steady her.
When they reached level ground, ground devoid of rock, he released her elbow. The cluster of pine trees brought a welcoming reprieve from the hot sun.
He filled their canteens with river water and handed her one. She twisted the lid and tilted it up, taking a long drink. His gaze landed on her sleek, graceful neck. She leaned over and refilled her canteen, then dipped her hanky into the tepid water and daintily blotted her face and neck.
What a vision she was. A lady of poise and grace. The epitome of femininity.
Quicker than a flash, an image of Melanie invaded his mind, bringing with it all the bad memories. Memories he’d rather forget.
That Jess, he groaned inwardly. It’s all his fault I’m even thinking about Melanie again. Well, buddy boy, nothing will induce me to get involved with a woman again. Nothing.
The sooner he got this task over with the better. When he got back to the ranch, he’d hand her over to Jesse to deal with.
To distract himself, he unscrewed the lid on his canteen and pulled in a long drink.
Minutes later, after they’d finished taking their break, he steadied her again until they reached the wagon.
She pointed toward the hillside and asked, “Would you mind if I pick some of those red and yellow flowers to take to your mother?”
Did she have to be so sweet on top of being beautiful? That combination was the worst kind to lure a man in. But he couldn’t turn her down. His mother loved flowers and thoughtful gestures like that.
“Sure.” He took her canteen and put both of them back into the wagon.
Making sure she didn’t slip on the small pile of thin rocks, he held her hand until she stepped over them.
She leaned over and broke the long stem off at the bottom and studied the bloom before she placed the flower under her nose and smiled. “These are quite lovely. What are they?”
“Red columbines. My mother’s favorite.”
She darted her gaze up at him and her face beamed, even though he had seen her fatigue just moments before.
She started gathering more and stopped only to dab the sweat off her forehead.
Haydon couldn’t bear to watch her suffer, so he jumped in and helped her. When they had a nice bouquet, they headed back to the wagon.
He grabbed his canteen and opened it, then retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and saturated it with water. “Hand me the flowers.”
She gave them to him, and he wrapped the soaked cloth around the stems. “That will help keep them until we get to the ranch.”
“Thank you.” Her smile lit up her face. She really was sweet.
Not liking that train of thought, he quickly helped her into the wagon, climbed up himself and down the road they went. A road that now seemed longer than it ever had been before. Having her sitting next to him had him squirming like a worm. The sooner he got them to the ranch, the better.
Rainee glanced at the flowers in her lap. It was very thoughtful of him to help her gather them and then help preserve them until she could give them to his mother. Her own mother never tired of getting fresh bouquets of flowers, and Rainee loved seeing her smile. How delightful it was to be able to do something nice for Mr. Bowen’s mother, too.
Soon she would be her mother also.
Her heart smiled with joy.
Rainee cut a sideways glance at him. Whatever it took, no matter how uncomfortable or how hard things became, she would make this situation work. Fear would not dissuade her from doing anything less. Besides, she had no other choice.
When the beatings became more severe, life-threatening even, after months of praying, she and Jenetta had concocted this plan of escape. Good thing their strategy had worked. Because the night she had fled she overheard her brother’s scheme to sell her to their fifty-eight-year-old neighbor—the repulsive Mr. Alexander, or Mr. Gruff as she called him. They were to wed that next day. Just thinking about it made her tremble. That man was cruel to his very soul. Just like her brother, Ferrin.
Thank You, Lord, for guiding my steps and for delivering me from Ferrin’s wicked plans. Help me to be a good wife to Mr. Bowen. And if You would be so kind, would You please delay the wedding ceremony to give us a little time to get to know each other before we wed? Thank You.
Rainee hoped God would especially answer her prayer about getting to know each other first because her intended was obviously a man of few words. And even fewer smiles. What if he was cruel like her brother? That thought frightened her. God have mercy on her if she had left one boiling pot for another. Or, she
