Husband By Arrangement. Angel Moore
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“Hush, child. You’re forgiven.” He patted her back. “I know you’ve chosen a difficult path for your life, but God loves you. And so do I.” He made soft sounds of comfort in her ear. “Perhaps in time, Scott will grow to love you, too. You must give him time.”
“I don’t see how he could ever want me for his wife. No man could.” She sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt as she backed away from him. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust again. I feel so betrayed.”
Her father tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He already took you as his wife, Rena. Be fair to him. He’s done a great thing for our family. And he’s a good man.”
“I’ll treat him with respect.”
“That’s a good place to start.” He pulled his watch from his vest pocket. “I have a meeting in a few minutes. Is Scott coming back here now?”
“We’re going to lunch before we come for my things.”
“How nice for you.” He gave a final perusal of the room.
“Papa, may I take the washstand with me?”
He turned to the corner of the room. “That was a gift from me to your mother on our first anniversary.” He smiled. “I remember how pleased she was to be surprised.” He nodded at her. “I think she would want you to have it.”
“Thank you, Papa.” She gave him another hug. “Not just for the gift, but for everything. You are a wise man. I am grateful for your help. Pray that I’ll be able to live up to the demands of running a homestead and being a mother.”
“I will.” He left her standing there in the room that no longer felt like home.
Her things were ready to be taken away. The childhood she’d lived here was over, and a new life waited for her in the sheriff’s office on the other side of town. It was time to go.
* * *
Scott couldn’t concentrate. The words on the papers on his desk swam in front of him like ants crawling on a pie at a picnic.
Married. He was married.
And not for any reason he’d have chosen.
He shook his head and straightened the papers on his desk into small stacks. On top was a list he’d made during the course of the morning. Every time he thought of something he needed for the homestead or Rena, he jotted it on the small piece of paper.
A ring. Rena didn’t have a wedding ring. He could get her one soon. They hadn’t discussed it. Perhaps it was something she didn’t think she should ask about, but he knew giving her one was the right thing to do.
The tip of the pencil broke, and he pulled out his knife to sharpen it.
The door opened, and Cyrus Busby from the mercantile came in. “I got that order ready for you.”
Scott pushed the knife blade across the pencil again and nicked his thumb. “Ouch!” He dropped the knife and put the pad of his thumb to his lips. With the other hand he added the ring to his list.
“Thanks, Cyrus. I appreciate that. We’ll be by your place this afternoon to pick it up.” He folded the list and put it in his pocket.
The door opened again, and Rena entered the office. “I’ve finished—” She stopped short when she saw Cyrus. “Oh, hello, Mr. Busby.”
Cyrus nodded. “Mrs. Braden.”
Rena’s cheeks filled with pink at the words.
Scott didn’t like seeing her uncomfortable. “Thanks again, Cyrus. We’ll come by later.”
Cyrus made a motion like he would leave, but he stopped with his hand on the door. “You know, I never noticed the two of you showing much interest in one another. Don’t seem like you were even courting, and now you’re married.”
Scott moved from behind his desk and came to stand beside Rena. He put his arm around her shoulders and felt her stiffen at his touch. A glance at her face showed her determination to protect their privacy.
He spoke to the mercantile owner. “Sometimes these notions come on a man sudden like.”
Cyrus rubbed a hand across the stubble on the side of his round face. “Sudden like, huh?”
“Yes.” Scott wanted to laugh at the man’s puzzled expression, but that would ruin the effect. “If you’ll excuse us, I promised my wife lunch over at the hotel.”
“Sure.” Cyrus went out the door slowly.
Rena stepped away from Scott as soon as Cyrus left. “Was that necessary?”
Scott chuckled. “I have probably just made short work of an explanation to the townsfolk for our sudden marriage.” He pushed his hat on and opened the door for her. “With Cyrus’s need to know and share everything he learns about anyone’s business, I dare say most of Gran Colina will be talking about our whirlwind romance over their evening meals tonight.”
“Oh, I see.” The sadness that had shrouded her features at the homestead lifted just a bit. “You are right. I only hope Charlotte is as easy to convince. I just finished packing my things and haven’t had a chance to see her yet.”
“I imagine she’ll be in the restaurant when we go. You can tell her then.”
At Green’s Grand Hotel, Charlotte was indeed working. She showed them to a table by the window and promised to return for a chat as soon as she’d helped to serve the lunch crowd.
Rena ate the special with more enthusiasm than he’d seen from her in the last two days.
“Are dumplings a favorite of yours?” He cut into his steak and took a bite.
She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a fancy napkin. “Yes. Charlotte’s mother is an amazing cook.”
He lowered his voice. “I’m glad to see your appetite restored.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“Did you have an opportunity to speak with your father?”
“Yes. We had a good talk.”
She cleared her throat, so he decided to change the subject. “I want to stop at the livery and see if Russell Henderson knows anyone who has a cow for sale.”
Rena buttered a slice of bread. “Are you certain you won’t let me ask Papa about that? I’m sure he’d be glad to help with the expenses you’ll be burdened with on my account. You could think of it like a dowry of sorts.”
“I will provide what we need. You know me well enough to know that I speak my mind.” He lifted his glass of tea. “And that I rarely change it once I’ve made it up.”