His Brother's Bride Read online

  She looked around the dark room. The lantern she’d hung from a nail shed dim, yellow light on the stuffy space. There were a few little tables to look through and still a couple trunks she’d yet to open, but those would have to wait until tomorrow. It was getting late, and she needed to get supper on.

  She began putting things back into the empty trunk, taking care not to rip the fragile fabrics. She’d just stuffed the last gown on top when a sound at the door reminded her she’d forgotten about Adam.

  “Did you get your drink of water without spilling?” she asked, tucking the clothing into the trunk.

  “What are you doing?” The voice was no young boy’s.

  Her gaze swung to the doorway. Cade’s large frame filled it, his face washed in a glow of lantern light. A frown puckered his brows.

  Emily’s mouth felt as dry as the dirt that coated her gown. “Cade, I—why, you’re back early, I don’t even have supper on yet.”

  He looked around the room as if to make sure everything was still there. She felt her face flush.

  “Adam said you were up here.”

  “Yes, I–I wanted to sort through things.” Her mind fished for a plausible excuse. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? “I found a lamp for the sitting room.” She held it up by the metal handle, but she felt the smile on her lips wobble.

  He nodded, but the frown remained. She knew she must look a sight, evidence she’d been up here far too long to justify the finding of a single lamp.

  “Well, I’d best get supper on.” She began to rise, but her feet had fallen asleep and refused to support her. She reached out to grab hold of something, but there was nothing but air. She tried to take a step toward the wall, but her foot connected with something, and she tripped.

  Cade stepped forward and caught her as she fell into his arms. Her hands found the hard flesh of his arms. His chest was a rock-hard wall against the softness of her cheek. Her pulse skittered.

  He felt warm against her already heated body. She pulled back and realized his hands encompassed her waist. The glow of the lantern light flickered over his face, revealing something new in his expression. Her mind was too befuddled to put a word to it.

  Her thoughts swirled in her mind in a heated frenzy. She felt his hands tighten on her waist, and it brought the oddest of sensations to the pit of her stomach. Her heart, too, reacted to Cade’s nearness.

  As his gaze roamed over her face, she became aware of how she must look. Dust and cobwebs probably coated her hair. She wondered if there were streaks on her face where drops of sweat made trails through the dirt.

  She looked down, and her gaze locked on a button on his shirt. She felt his hands leave her waist, felt him pull back, both physically and emotionally.

  Whatever she had seen on his face before was certainly gone now.

  Her gaze darted to his, and she saw her suspicions confirmed. A deep shadow had settled into the plane of his jaw and shifted as his muscles twitched. His eyes too had grown distant, hard.

  The silence swelled around them, and she wished he would say something, anything. Because she couldn’t seem to form a rational thought.

  She backed away a step, and her foot connected with something on the floor. She caught herself quickly.

  “Pa,” Adam called from somewhere downstairs.

  Cade glanced at the door, then back to Emily. “Be right there,” he called to Adam. His voice sounded loud in the confinement of the attic. He cleared his throat. His posture was stiff, his gaze harsh. She wondered what had caused him to go from warm and pliable moments before to rigid and withdrawn.

  “I told him I’d take him for a ride while you get supper on.” His voice was clipped.

  Emily nodded, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  He started for the door, and Emily felt a physical relief that he was leaving. Before the breath she’d inhaled found release, he turned.

  In the shadows, his expression was unreadable. “In the future, you might spend more time tending the garden than sorting through junk.”

  The words hit their mark. Her face went hot and her skin prickled. She heard his heavy boots thudding down the stairs and thought her heart must surely be as loud. Shame uncoiled in the pit of her stomach and snaked through every part of her. He had wondered why she was up here sorting through his things. She looked down at the floor where the silly lamp sat. Her excuse for being up here seemed absurd. The garden lay outside barely touched, and she was in here going through old relics.

  He must think her lazy or incompetent or daft. Why else would she let chores go undone while she snooped about in an attic? And all for nothing, too, since she’d come up empty-handed.

  She heard the front door slam and was relieved he was out of the house. A quick glance of the room reminded her there were still trunks to go through. And like it or not, she would have to go through them.

  But first, she had to get cleaned up and get supper fixed. And if it killed her, she would get it done before Cade returned.

  ❧

  Cade balanced Adam in front of him and kicked Sutter into motion. His heart still thudded heavily in his chest even while guilt flooded his soul. He relived the moment in the attic, then shook his head as if to dislodge the thoughts. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought he was capable of those feelings again. It was wrong.

  But it had felt so right for just those few moments. Right and good.

  Stop it, Manning. He clenched his teeth and kicked Sutter into a gallop. Adam laughed as the wind hit their faces.

  But it had felt right and good. When Emily’s eyes had widened in the glow of the lamplight, his gut clamped down hard. Her dirt-streaked face had looked adorable, had reminded him of the first time he’d seen her, getting off the stage.

  Then Ingrid’s face had come into his thoughts. Her golden hair and sad blue eyes. Sad because he’d been thinking of Emily in the way a man thinks of a woman.

  She’s my wife.

  In name only, his spirit rebutted. What would Ingrid think of him now? She’d loved him and given birth to their precious son. What right did Cade have to carry on with another woman when his wife had lost her life bearing him a son?

  “Faster, Pa, faster!” Adam’s voice mingled with the wind.

  “This is fast enough.” Cade held his son close to him and allowed himself to enjoy the softness of his little body. Before he knew it, Adam would be too big to ride tandem with him. One day, he would leave home and go off on his own. The thought tugged at his heart. And then where would Cade be?

  Emily will still be with you.

  Yes, she would still be here, Lord willing, but they would be like brother and sister sharing a house. His heart denied the idea. When they were in the attic awhile ago, she hadn’t felt like any sister he’d known. No, your skin didn’t flush and prickle when you held a sister in your arms.

  He shifted in the saddle, feeling suddenly discomfited. She didn’t feel like a sister at all, but more like a—

  Wife.

  His mind rejected the thought. No matter that his heart had felt alive for the first time since Ingrid had died—he would not let himself fall for Emily. Hadn’t he loved Ingrid well, and what had that gotten him? A broken heart. He’d grieved for months like he hadn’t thought possible. He’d never imagined such pain as he felt when he’d lain his head on her pillow and smelled her lilac soap. Or held his baby in his arms, knowing Ingrid would never have that chance.

  He didn’t want to feel that way again. Ever. No amount of pleasure was worth that, and if necessary, he would put up walls twenty feet high around his heart to keep her out.

  Six

  Emily,

  I’ll not waste time with pleasantries as you did in your letter. It seems you have settled in that cozy little farmhouse with a husband and his brat and forgotten why you’re there to st
art with. You are not there to be a wife or ma. You are there to find the map and gold. That is the only reason you are there.

  Since you have become so lax in your thinking, I am going to save you from your laziness by setting a deadline. You have until winter’s first frost to find the gold. Anyone with any wits about them could manage that. Unless you want your grandmother to be sent away, you’d best get to work.

  Uncle Stewart

  Emily’s belly clenched, and her fingers trembled on the page. She sat down on the settee, glad she’d sent Adam out to play. She was beginning to despair of ever finding the map. She’d finished looking in the attic and around the house. It was only spring, but winter would be here before she knew it. What if she couldn’t find the gold by winter? What if the map was not even here? Someone could have found it and thrown it out long ago for all she knew.

  She heard Adam squealing outside and peeked out the window. He sat in the dirt watching some bug crawl along the ground. He coaxed it onto a stick and squealed again. Emily smiled. She longed to go outside and play with him, but now she felt compelled to search for the map.

  She looked around the room for some area, some piece of furniture she hadn’t searched already. She’d looked everywhere.

  Maybe she was going about it all wrong. Maybe Cade knew something that would give her a clue as to the gold’s whereabouts. Maybe he even knew of the map but didn’t know its significance.

  That’s it. I’ll see if I can find out something from him. It sure beat looking for a needle in a haystack. Especially when she didn’t even know if the needle existed.

  ❧

  Emily put another spoonful of potatoes on Adam’s plate and smiled at him.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Her eyes met Cade’s, and she read the approval in them. She’d been working with Adam on his manners. He was a fast student, ready to learn and eager to please. Keeping him clean, though, was a task she’d given up on. She’d learned to let him get as dirty as he pleased, then have him get washed up for supper.

  She glanced at Cade, who was serving himself another slab of ham. He could put away food, that man, but still stayed slim and solid. Well, it was no wonder with the hard work he did all day. Her gaze fell to his hands, so strong and tanned. His fingers, squared at the tips, were long and so. . .masculine.

  And still.

  Her gaze found his, and she saw he was studying her. She’d been staring at his hands, she realized, and knew he must think her odd. She picked up her fork and worked a piece of ham onto it, feeling the burning in her face. He’d never said a thing about their embrace in the attic awhile back. But she’d thought about it more than she cared to admit. If Cade had thought much of it, she couldn’t tell, for he’d been as distant from her as he ever had.

  Her uncle’s words flashed in her mind. You are there to find the map and gold. That is the only reason you are there. The weeks were slipping away, and she had to start questioning Cade, like it or not.

  She glanced in his direction and realized Adam was telling him about a game she had played with him today. How could she steer the conversation toward the map in a way that wouldn’t draw Cade’s suspicion? Then an idea occurred to her.

  “Perhaps tomorrow we could play a different game,” she said to Adam.

  His dark eyebrows popped up high. “What game?”

  “Well, seeing as how you like dirt so much, perhaps I could bury some treasure. I could make you a map with pictures and see if you can find it.”

  “Real gold?”

  Emily laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as brittle as she thought. “Well, I don’t have any real treasure, but maybe we could use buttons and just pretend it’s real.”

  Emily glanced at Cade, hoping to jog some memory. If he’d seen a map lying around somewhere, maybe he’d think of it now.

  “Can we do it now?” Adam asked.

  “Finish your supper,” Cade said. “Tomorrow’s soon enough.” He glanced at Emily then back to his son. “You might help Emily with the garden before you think of asking her to play.”

  Embarrassment washed over her. Now he thought she was putting off her chores to play games with Adam. He must think her completely slothful.

  She tried to regain her composure. “We’ll do our work first, won’t we, Adam?”

  “Aww.”

  “None of that,” Cade said. “If we don’t grow a garden, what do you reckon we’ll eat all winter?”

  This was getting her nowhere. He’d not taken the hint about the map at all, and now they were on a different topic altogether.

  “How about if I draw up the map tonight, Adam?” she asked. “Then as soon as we’re finished with our chores, I can bury the treasure for you.”

  “Yippee!”

  “Finish your peas,” Cade said.

  “Yes sir.”

  Later that night after Adam was in bed, Emily sat with a piece of paper, mapping out the backyard. Her trees looked more like inverted pitchforks, but she supposed Adam would be able to make it out.

  She glanced at Cade where he sat reading his Bible. She needed to get him talking about his grandfather or the map. Surely he knew something that would be of help.

  She marked the spot on the map where she would bury Adam’s treasure and held it up in front of her. Would Adam be able to understand the pictures?

  “What do you think of it?” She held up the picture for Cade. Across the room, his gaze lifted from the Bible to the picture she held up. He squinted, and she realized he couldn’t see well from across the room. She got up and walked over to the settee where he sat.

  Feeling brave, she sank down beside him and handed him the picture.

  His lips twitched as he looked at it.

  She felt amusement well up in her. So her picture did look like Adam had drawn it. Had she ever claimed to be an artist?

  His lips twitched again.

  “And what’s so funny, Mr. Manning?” she asked, feeling suddenly playful.

  He glanced at her then back to the map. “Why’s there a porcupine in the middle of the yard?”

  “That’s a bush.” She swatted his arm and wondered if she’d overstepped her bounds.

  His laugh was disguised as a cough.

  “And I suppose you could do better?”

  He looked at her then, and the amusement on his face made her feel warm and cozy all over. “I’m not the one who offered to draw a treasure map.”

  His smile slid away slowly like the ocean’s tide, but his gaze remained locked on hers. She felt her own fade away. The mantel clock ticked off time, and so did her eager heart.

  He cleared his throat and looked back at the paper. “It’s fine, really.” He handed it back to her. “You’ve been real good to Adam.”

  She accepted the paper and suddenly realized how close they were sitting. Her calico gown draped over his knee, and she realized she liked the intimacy the image invoked.

  “I’ve grown fond of him. He’s a good boy.”

  Cade settled against the back of the sofa, and she was relieved he didn’t seem to mind her closeness. “He is good. But I’ve been a little neglectful of the manners and such. He’s learning a lot from you.”

  His approval brought a wave of pleasure to her belly. “He’s a delight to me, I assure you.” All this talk was wonderful, but she couldn’t help but think of her uncle’s last letter and his deadline. Perhaps now, while they were talking so nicely, was a good time to probe.

  “Adam’s been asking about his ancestors lately.” It was true. He’d had a barrelful of questions about who owned the clothes and trinkets in the attic.

  “That a fact?”

  “Umm.” She worked absently on the map. “I didn’t know what to tell him.”

  He closed the Bible on his lap and laced his fingers behind his head. “Not much to te
ll, really. We’re farmers, going back at least three generations.”

  He went on to tell her about his own parents. They’d been hard workers and plain folk who’d done well to raise a family and provide the necessities. When he mentioned his grandparents, Emily’s ears perked up.

  “Don’t know much about Grandpa Quincy ’cept he didn’t much like to work. My pa said he was gone a lot and would turn up out of the blue. One day he just disappeared, and they never did know what happened to him. Eventually, they figured he was dead and put a grave marker on the hill out back.”

  She’d seen it weeks ago and had wondered about it. “Do you remember him at all?”

  He shook his head. “I was young when he disappeared.”

  “You must have missed having a grandfather.”

  He shrugged. “It was odd. Nobody liked to talk about Grandpa Quincy much. When I’d ask my pa about him, he’d get all snippy. Grandma didn’t cotton to talking about him either. I just figured her feelings had been hurt by his desertion. She had a hard life, trying to keep up the farm without his help.”

  “What do you suppose he did all those times he went away?” She glanced at his face.

  His eyes squinted as if he could see into the past. “Don’t know. I guess I figured he wandered around, liked his freedom.”

  He didn’t know. She could see the honesty on his face.

  Unlike me. A wave of shame washed over her. I’m doing this for Nana, though. I have no choice. She shifted in her seat and watched the material of her skirt slide off his leg.

  “Have you ever looked through his things? In the attic, I mean?”

  His gaze fixed on her, his brows hiked up beneath his dark bangs. “No. Grandma must’ve put some things up there, but I’ve never gone through the stuff.” His eyes narrowed, and their depths were laced with suspicion.