Desperate Lola (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 2) Page 5

  He swallowed, because his Adam’s apple moved up and down. The only sound in the room came from a clock that sat on the desk, ticking away loudly.

  Chapter 6

  I turned and hurried from the room, knowing I would burst into a fit of ugly tears, and I could not bear to have anyone see me this way. Grabbing for the banister, I stumbled up the stairs, the bottom of the skirt catching my boots. Twin rivers of tears fell down my cheeks, dripping onto the lacy part of the bodice. Once I had reached the room, I shut the door behind me and collapsed upon the bed, landing in such a way breathing became difficult. Turning onto my back, I gazed at the ceiling over my head, staring at whitewashed plaster in an ornate design.

  Mr. Kelly’s coldness had come as an unwelcome surprise. I felt shame that I had given into Chuck and kissed him, however briefly, but I had regretted it immediately. He had taken advantage of me, of my inexperience. The thought of returning to Virginia horrified me. I could not go home.

  “I’m not used to people walking out on me, Miss Parsons.”

  He had followed! I made no effort to look at him, lying on my back in abject misery. “Go away.”

  “The discussion is not over.”

  “You told me I had to leave tomorrow. What more is there to talk about?”

  He approached, standing over the bed, while I labored to breathe, the corset pinching, digging into my flesh. He had removed his frock coat, leaving only the waistcoat over a pristine white and blue striped shirt. A loosened bowtie hung around his neck. I had been staring at him, marveling at the fact that he looked younger than I thought. The severity of his gaze, however, revealed his age. What would he look like smiling? To my chagrin he sat on the edge of the bed. Gasping, I propelled myself upwards, meeting his gaze directly.

  “I … can’t … breathe.” The upset had wreaked havoc with my emotions, and I had not been able to stop crying, my chest heaving, struggling to obtain enough oxygen.

  Concern appeared for the briefest second, but he schooled his features to return to their former starkness. “Let me help you.” He grasped the tiny buttons at the front of the bodice, loosening them, opening the material, which exposed a lacy corset. With surprising dexterity, he released the stays, without undressing me completely. I wore a chemise beneath, which concealed me fairly well.

  “Thank you.” I fell back again, not wanting to look at him for another moment. “You may go now.”

  He stifled a chuckle. “We need to talk, Lola. You were right on several points. I’ve been thoroughly chastised, but I suspect I deserve it.” He withdrew a handkerchief from a small pocket in his waistcoat. “You’re going to drown yourself, if you’re not careful.” He handed it to me.

  “Thank you.” I dabbed at the tears, but more came. “I wish I could stop crying. It’s mortifying.”

  “You’ve had quite the ordeal.”

  “Not really. Traveling is taxing, but it was to be expected. What I hadn’t anticipated was you finding me lacking. I never thought I’d be sent back like an undercooked steak.” My eyes flooded yet again. “I’m terribly sorry for enduring Mr. Brittle’s unwanted advances. I’m not used to dealing with that sort of thing. If only I’d realized his intention was seduction, maybe I could’ve protected myself in some way.”

  “I never should’ve sent him. I apologize for that.”

  “It’s too late now.”

  A hint of a smile appeared. “Not really. We’ve both made mistakes. Perhaps, we should put it all aside and begin anew.”

  I wiped my face, wishing the tears would end. “Oh, this is intolerable.”

  “Me?”

  “No, my tears. I can’t stop crying.”

  “You don’t have to leave tomorrow.”

  “But you find me lacking. You can’t trust me.”

  He had the decency to look remorseful. “I’m not going to dwell on that. It was badly done.”

  I sat up, dabbing at the wetness on my cheeks. “You were supposed to marry me in Lamy. Is a wedding still going to occur?” He stared for the longest time, his expression enigmatic, yet something had begun to simmer between us—some sort of mysterious energy. It was odd, yet pleasing and entirely new. “Sir?”

  “Why are you not married already? You’re one of the most handsome women I’ve ever met.”

  Staggered by the compliment, I did not know if I could tell him the truth. “I’ve had suitors aplenty, yes. I just … don’t wish to live in Virginia.”

  “Why not?”

  “For … for adventure. I came here for adventure.”

  “I somehow don’t think that’s the truth.”

  “What about you? You’re not old and haggard looking like I thought you’d be. You seem just fine for appearance sake. You’re obviously rich as Croesus. I’m sure dozens of women would be more than happy to marry you. Maybe even hundreds.”

  “I told you my reasons in the letters. I find the women here far too vulgar and independent. I’m looking for the opposite of that.”

  “Now that you’ve met me, what do you think?” He remained silent, lost in a series of secretive thoughts. Tears threatened again, because I was certain he would deny me. “Sir?”

  “Why don’t you wish to remain in Virginia?”

  I ran a hand through my hair, catching a pin, which released a lock of hair. Twirling the strands around my finger, I suffered a twinge of nervousness. How would he react if I revealed the truth?

  “Lola?”

  “I had to go away,” I said softly.

  “Why?”

  “My stepfather is why.”

  “What about him?”

  In my letters, I had only ever painted him in a flattering light. “Because his interest in me … is disturbing. I didn’t want to upset my mother. I felt it better I leave.”

  “You said they were excited about your upcoming nuptials.”

  “They don’t know anything about it.”

  “You lied.”

  “I told a fib.” I twisted the hair over and over, my nervousness increasing by the second. “He disturbed me,” I whispered. “I always thought he was … strange, but when I found the hole behind the picture, I knew it was worse than I thought.”

  “Hole?”

  “He’d made a hole in the wall. He’d been watching me for a long time. I know he must’ve seen me undress and wash and things.” Embarrassment made my cheeks flame. “I can’t even think about it. He must have been watching since I was thirteen, if not younger. I find that disgusting.” Indignation left me gasping for breath. “Don’t you think that’s wrong? What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t live there. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible.”

  “If you’d married someone, you would’ve been mistress of your own home. You would’ve been free and clear in that respect. There’s no need to travel thousands of miles to the howling wilderness.”

  “Yes there is.” Mr. Kelly’s angry expression had disappeared. He stared with compassion and interest, watching the way I played with my hair. “I never want to see him again. I thought it best I just go. I’ve written to my mother since, telling her I’m well. I’m sure she must be in hysterics with worry, but I’ve made my decision. If you send me back, I’ll be forced to live there again. I suppose I could marry someone—anyone, but … I would rather stay here and marry you.”

  “You find me lacking.” The edges of his mouth twitched, as he suppressed a smile.

  “You disabled a train full of people.”

  “It was an unwise idea.”

  “You made your bride-to-be sleep outside. I ate beans for two days.”

  His hand closed over mine, preventing me from twirling the hair. “That is grievous indeed.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “About what?”

  “My hair. What are you doing, Mr. Kelly?”

  He rubbed the strands between his thumb and forefinger. Then he smiled in earnest. “The color of wheat, but prettier.” His gaze skimmed over my face. “Your ey
es are all red.”

  “That’ll go away.” A peculiar sense of warmth rushed through me. This discussion, and his behavior, had alleviated some of my fear. He wasn’t indifferent in the least, and he seemed willing to listen to my point of view. “What will we do?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to marry.”

  “Will we?” Hope swelled within me. Perhaps, all was not lost?

  He smiled faintly. “Yes.”

  Just minutes earlier I had been drowning in despair, but now relief and gladness replaced all of those emotions. On impulse, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I hugged him, saying, “I’m so grateful. You won’t regret marrying me, sir.” He had stiffened at the onset, but he held me as well, his arms forming a protective circle. “I’ll be the best wife I can, and, hopefully, we’ll be blessed with children.” He smelled of soap, brandy, and some form of tobacco. I drew away to look at him, because he had not said anything. “Don’t you agree?”

  “And just like that you have me wrapped around your finger. Well played.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve listened to your explanation. I believe you, Lola. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, and I will marry you. We are strangers in essence, still, despite the fact that there are dozens of letters between us. To really know someone, you have to be with them every day and under every circumstance. I don’t delude myself into thinking this is a love match. I needed a wife, and I need an heir. You’ll provide both of those things adequately enough.”

  “Adequately enough?” Some of the shine of the earlier conversation had dulled. “We came together in a strange way through an ad in the newspaper, but don’t you think we might be more than just a means to create a baby? Might we not be friends? Maybe something more?”

  “Maybe.”

  I frowned. “I’m not one of your cows. I had expected more.”

  “Romantic love is a silly notion I don’t prescribe to. I’m a practical man, Lola. I’ve seen enough to know that passing fancies are just that. Passing fancies. That sweet glow wears off eventually, and all you’re left with is someone you thought you knew.”

  Had he formed these opinions from his prior, dear departed wife? “I see.”

  “So, now that we’ve settled that, I’ll have everything prepared for the wedding in the morning. Mrs. Boles will bring a dress you can wear, and we’ll finalize the deed.”

  I stared at him, my mouth parted, although I had been rendered speechless.

  “Lola?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is this agreeable to you?”

  “I … it is.”

  He smiled in satisfaction. “Good.” Getting to his feet, he slid his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  At a loss, I twirled hair around a finger, staring at him dumbfounded.

  “Good night.”

  “Good night,” I said softly.

  Mr. Kelly strode from the room, closing the door behind him. “That was singularly odd,” I murmured to myself. “I guess he still wants to marry me, but what was all that blather about romantic love?” The evening could have ended worse, I surmised. I had been lucky not to be sent home.

  Leaving the bed, I changed into my nightclothes, which I discovered in a drawer and washed my face and hands in a bowl of water on the dresser. Eyeing myself in the mirror, I glimpsed slightly sad eyes and a pale complexion. This wasn’t how I thought it would be. He seemed warmer in his letters and far more romantic. Had I been deceived or had I read more into his words than I should?

  Sliding into bed, I turned down a lamp and lay my head on a pillow. Through the open window came the gentle lowing of cows in the pasture nearest to the house and the sound of chickens clucking in their coops. This and the ever-present cacophony of crickets would lull me to sleep. I had nearly succumbed after closing my eyes, but a scratching on the door roused me.

  “What?” I left the bed to see what had created the noise. Opening the door, I found Otto waiting patiently. “Oh, it’s you.” His black eyes flashed, while his tail wagged happily. “Go to sleep.” He darted past me into my room, bounding upon the bed. “No!” Exhausted and irritated, I pointed a finger at him. “Out! You can’t sleep here. There’s no room on the bed for me, and I can’t sleep with a flea infested mongrel.”

  He settled in the middle of the bed, sniffing his paw.

  “Oh, please don’t let this happen.” I approached the bed, lifting the covers. “I’m going to have a discussion with Mrs. Boles about this. I shouldn’t have to share my bed with a small horse. When I’m married, I’ll be in my husband’s bed and there won’t be anything you can do about it.” I turned to look at him, seeing nothing but a dark shape next to me. “You don't really have fleas, do you?”

  Otto ignored this question.

  “Well, good night.”

  This received no reply as well, but that was to be expected. I closed my eyes, while my mind replayed the events of the day. It was some time before I drifted into slumber, all the while listening to the noises of the farm and the soft snoring of the dog that had taken over my bed.

  Chapter 7

  Ignoring the crow of the rooster at daybreak, I turned over on the mattress, finding the spot Otto had taken to be empty. He had left during the early morning, and I now had the luxury of stretching out across the space at my leisure. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that I realized I wasn’t alone in the room. Sitting up, I faced Mrs. Boles.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m sorry to wake you, my dear, but Mr. Kelly says you need to get ready for town. I’ve pressed your outfit. Your boots are polished as well. Will you need help with your hair?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ve breakfast on a tray. I’ll bring it to you in a few minutes.”

  My mother’s household employed two servants, but I had never had my own. This was a treat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Before she left the room, I asked, “Where’s Mr. Kelly?”

  “In a meeting with his ranch manager.”

  “Oh.”

  I glanced at the outfit she had left, spying a cream-colored bodice with black trim and frill. The skirt looked narrow, but the material gathered at the back. Would it fit me? Excited about the prospect of being married today, although the behavior of my groom puzzled me, I padded across the thick carpet to the washbowl, intending on freshening up.

  After I had eaten and dressed, I discovered the outfit to be slightly too snug, but it would have to do. The dress I had planned on wearing to the ceremony remained in the trunk of my missing luggage. I examined my features in the mirror, pleased with how Mrs. Boles had arranged my hair, parting it in the center and pinning the locks into an intricate bun at the back. A black bonnet would hide most of the handiwork as it was.

  Knowing my fiancé waited for me, I left the room, striding down the hallway and to the stairs. The house remained eerily quiet, with only a clock ticking in the parlor. Hearing voices in the study, I approached, seeing the door slightly ajar.

  “Then how do you propose we get them back?” asked a voice that sounded like Mr. Kelly.

  “I’ll gather the boys and see if we can’t find a trail. Those cattle were taken to Trundle’s ranch. He says he’s been rounding up the mavericks. Our brands will be found on them, no doubt.”

  I stood in the hallway listening, but a frown had appeared on my face. Mr. Brittle had just spoken, and I did not care for the cowboy, no matter how handsome he was purported to be.

  “I’m losing five head a day to rustling, Chuck. This is unacceptable. I might need to hire more men to watch over things at night.”

  “Or bring the herd in, but that’s a lot of work every evenin’.”

  “If Oliver Trundle’s responsible for the thievery, I’ll have his hide. I’m sick and tired of being robbed. It might be time to run him out and stake a claim on that land.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll look into it.”

  �
��Thank you, Chuck.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “That business with Lola Parsons. I need to ask you a few questions about your time together.”

  “Ask anything you want. I’ll answer as truthfully as I can.”

  “You say she succumbed to your advances.”

  “She most certainly did.”

  “I spoke with her last night. From what I gather, she’s rather inexperienced in these matters. Isn’t it possible her inexperience might’ve hindered her ability to refuse you?”

  “I suppose, but she didn’t seem to mind kissing me in the least. She enjoyed herself just fine.”

  My mouth fell open. The desire to burst into the room and defend myself nearly propelled me through the door. Mr. Kelly’s next words stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “I had looked forward to meeting her. My expectations were too high. I see that now. She’s no different than all the other little doxies running around here. I’d hoped to find someone who possessed somewhat higher morals than your standard saloon girl, but I guess that’s harder to achieve than I thought.”

  “Yeah, well … it’s the way of it, I reckon. You’re still gonna marry her, right?”

  “Yes.”

  I leaned against the wall, while my heart beat painfully in my chest. I cursed Mr. Brittle and hated him with a passion I had never felt before. This anger extended to Mr. Kelly as well. He had orchestrated the train’s mechanical troubles, and he had sent Mr. Brittle solely on an errand of seduction. He had expected me to behave badly, and I had. The shameful memory still stung.

  “You’re under no obligation to marry her,” said Chuck. “You could send her back.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “Why didn’t you? If you can’t trust the little strumpet, why keep her?”

  “Good question.”

  “She’s pretty enough, to be sure, but plenty of women have blonde hair and blue eyes, although hers are the loveliest blue I’ve ever seen.”

  “They are.”