Read Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) Online

Authors: Pamela BAUER

Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) (17 page)

BOOK: Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)
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“Jeremy?” Hannah turned to her son for help.
“I’ll be right back, Mom. I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, then disappeared out the door.
“You better sit up,” Wood said patiently, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her forward so he could prop her pillows behind her.
When her covers slipped downward, Hannah tugged them back up. “You shouldn’t be in here at all. I’m in my nightgown and it’s sheer.”
Wood grinned. “I know. You came out to the tent and climbed into my sleeping bag, remember?”
She blushed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I like taking care of you, Hannah,” he told her, then reached for the bowl of soup.
She had no response to that statement.
“Now open up and let’s get this food inside you.”
To his surprise, Hannah did exactly as she was told. Although she didn’t finish all of the soup, she did eat her soda crackers and drink her juice.
“Feel better?” Wood asked as she slid back down in the bed.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Think you’ll be all right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. That means Jeremy and I can leave.” He didn’t miss the apprehension that flashed in her eyes. “You can trust me to take good care of him, Hannah.”
She didn’t say a word, and he wondered if she did trust him or if she simply didn’t have the strength to argue with him. As Wood turned out the light, he dropped a kiss on her forehead.
As he left the room, her small, sickly voice called out, “Hey! I’m still your boss.”
Wood grinned to himself.
 
WHEN WOOD AND JEREMY got back to the campsite, they played more checkers, roasted something Jeremy called hot dogs over the open fire and told spooky stories. All the while Wood’s thoughts were never far from Hannah.
“We’ve done a pretty good job keeping the secret, haven’t we?” Jeremy asked Wood as they lay in the tent, the only light coming from a gas lantern. It had been a while since they had spoken on the subject of the mail-order groom, and although Wood had hoped that Jeremy had disregarded the idea, it was obvious he hadn’t.
“I’d say you’re a man who can be trusted to keep information to himself,” Wood answered.
“I’m not a blabbermouth like some of the kids at school.”
There was a small moment of silence, then he added, “I haven’t even told anyone you’re not Alfred Dumler.”
Wood’s heart skipped a beat. Momentarily stunned, he could only look at Jeremy.
“It’s okay. I like you, anyway.”
“What makes you think I’m not Alfred?”
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a ragged-looking envelope. “Because I found this.” He handed it to Wood, who read its contents.
“How long have you had this?” he asked when he had finished.
“Since Wednesday.”
“Three days, yet you didn’t say anything to me?”
“I couldn’t. Mom was always around.”
Wood nodded in understanding. “My real name is Wood Harris,” he said quietly.
“So how come you’re pretending to be this Alfred guy?” There was no censure in his question, just curiosity.
Wood didn’t know what to say to the boy. He exhaled a heavy sigh, then said, “It’s a long story and a complicated one. Believe me, Jeremy, I have a good reason for using another man’s name.”
“You don’t owe some people a bunch of money, do you?”
Wood shook his head. “No, why would you ask that?”
“Because I once saw this show on TV where this guy had to change his name because he had stolen all this money and the cops wanted to—”
Wood interrupted him. “Jeremy, I can promise you the reason I’m not using my real name has nothing to do with anything you’ve seen on TV. You know the kind of man I am.”
“Yeah. You’re too nice to be a crook. Mom says you won’t even accept all the money that’s owed you. She thinks it’s because you feel sorry for her, but I think it’s because you don’t need it.”
Wood tapped his chest with his fingertips. “It’s what’s inside here that makes a person who he is, not a name. Whether I’m Wood Dumler or Wood Harris, I’m still the same man who has worked on your farm for the past month.”
Jeremy nodded in agreement. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep your secret.”
“I hope one day it won’t have to be a secret.”
“Does that mean you won’t be the mail-order groom if that happens?” Anxiety edged his words.
“I’m not sure, Jeremy.” he answered honestly.
“But if you’re pretending to be a mail-order groom now, it must mean that you think it’s a good idea, doesn’t it?”
“I want to help your mother in any way I can.”
“Does that mean you plan on staying? That you want to be my dad?”
Wood didn’t miss the fact that Jeremy didn’t ask if he wanted to marry his mother, but rather did Wood want to be his father. It was a delicate situation Wood found himself in. He didn’t want to hurt the boy’s feelings, yet he didn’t want to mislead Jeremy, either.
“It’s not a question of whether I want to be your father,” Wood told him as he watched shadows dance on the canvas. “It’s whether your mother and I are suited to each other.”
“But you like her, don’t you?”
“Sure I do.”
“And she likes you.”
“She told you that?”
“No, but Gabby says Mom watches you when you’re not looking and that’s a sign that she’s taken with you,” he said earnestly. “I think that’s why Gabby went to bed and left you to feed mom the soup. To make it...you know—” he grinned shyly “—romantic.”
Wood didn’t doubt Gabby had played matchmaker. He only hoped that she was right about Hannah’s feelings for him. However, he suspected that the reason Hannah had her eye on him probably had to do more with her being worried he might steal something rather than her being taken with him.
“Liking someone and wanting to marry him are not the same thing. Your mother doesn’t appear to be a woman who’s going to take kindly to someone sending for a groom for her without her knowledge,” Wood pointed out.
“Gabby’s not sure we should ever tell her.”
Wood frowned. “She’d rather I be a hired hand than your mother’s husband?”
“Uh-uh. She thinks nature should take its course. If you and Mom fall in love and get married, then my mom doesn’t need to know that Gabby advertised for a husband for her,” Jeremy said on a yawn.
Wood reached up to turn off the gas lantern. “I’m certain everything will work out in a reasonable amount of time. You and I need to get some sleep if we’re going to be any help to your mother tomorrow.”
Jeremy groaned in protest as darkness filled the tent, but Wood noticed it was only a matter of minutes before the boy had fallen asleep. Not so for Wood. Long after the light had been extinguished he thought about Hannah and the way she had looked when she had arrived at their camping spot.
It was nice to know that the smart, strong, capable Hannah could be foolish at times. He shook his head. And she thought she didn’t need a man to take care of her.
 
THE FOLLOWING MORNING was Sunday and Wood filled in for Hannah for a second time. He took Gabby and Jeremy to church, leaving Hannah to sleep in.
When she did finally awake, the sun was streaming through her window. At the sight of the nearly empty soup bowl, she realized that last night hadn’t been a dream. She had gone out to the campsite and Wood had carried her home. He had fussed over her in a way no man had ever fussed over her, and to her surprise, it didn’t leave her angry, but feeling rather special. Maybe old-fashioned men weren’t such a pain in the butt after all.
Gingerly, she climbed out of bed to discover that her legs weren’t wobbly and her head wasn’t throbbing. She crept downstairs to the kitchen where she made herself toast and a cup of tea. Then she tried to remember where she had left her moccasins.
In Gabby’s den. Sure enough, there they were, stuck partway beneath the flowered love seat. Hannah bent down on her hands and knees to retrieve them, when she noticed the corner of a magazine sticking out beneath the ruffled skirt. It was a farm journal which Hannah would have tossed into Gabby’s magazine rack if a piece of paper hadn’t fallen out.
Curious, Hannah read what it said. It was an invoice for an ad billed to Gabby. Suspicion replaced curiosity. Hannah opened the magazine to the classified section and scanned the small print until she found one that had been circled in pen.
“That pig!” She dropped the magazine.
 
HANNAH HEARD GABBY’S CAR return from church. As she glanced out her bedroom window, she saw Jeremy and Wood head for the chicken coop. Gabby was nowhere in sight. Hannah could only guess that she had stayed after for donuts and coffee and that Mabel would be bringing her home.
It was probably better that Gabby hadn’t come home. Hannah preferred to vent her anger on Wood, the
mail
-
order groom
. She shivered at the thought. Everything he had done since his arrival had been with one goal in mind—getting her to the altar. The solicitous behavior, the interest in her son, the intimate moments they had shared...
She took a deep breath and marched outside, the farm journal in hand. He and Jeremy worked side by side, carefully submerging the freshly gathered eggs in a metal tub of water and placing them in one of the half dozen cartons lined up in a row on the grass.
“Hi, Mom. Wood’s helping me with the eggs,” Jeremy said when she came out of the house.
“You’ll have to finish later. I need to speak to Wood,” Hannah said briskly.
“Are you mad about something?” Jeremy asked.
“Jeremy, just go inside.”
“But my eggs...”
“I’ll take care of your eggs.”
Slowly Jeremy headed for the house, pausing on the porch steps to say, “Wood didn’t do anything wrong. He couldn’t have...”
One stern look from his mother had him slipping inside without another word.
“You must be feeling better. You’re acting like the boss again,” Wood commented, rising to his feet.
“Boss? Don’t you mean
wife?”
She held up the farm journal. “I saw Gabby’s ad.”
“That’s why you look like you want to tear my heart out and eat it for breakfast.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “Believe me, your heart does not interest me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“How could the two of you...” She trailed off at a loss for words.
“Gabby was worried that you were going to lose the farm,” he said in the older woman’s defense.
“I know what motivated Gabby. What I want to know is what kind of a man answers an ad for a groom?” Hannah was so angry she could barely stand still, moving restlessly back and forth.
But more than anger, she felt hurt. Just when she was beginning to think she could trust Wood, she discovered that he had been lying to her from the start. No wonder he had flirted with her. And all that gallant behavior...and the kisses. It was all an act. To convince her to marry him.
“I’m sorry, Hannah.”
His apology did little to calm her. “You still haven’t answered my question. What kind of man are you to agree to marry a woman you’ve never met?”
“I never thought I was going to marry you when I came here,” he replied.
“You didn’t come here looking for a wife? Well, golly gee, Wood, why not tell another lie?” she drawled sarcastically. “It’s not like you haven’t been lying since the day I met you, is it?”
“I couldn’t tell you the truth,” he admitted. “I knew you would send me away. And then there was Gabby:”
She waved a finger at him. “You leave Gabby out of this. We’re talking about you coming here under false pretenses—pretending you needed a job.”
“I did need a job.”
“You were after more than that,” she sneered. “No wonder you said you’d work for nothing. You had your eyes set on bigger stuff—like owning half of this farm.”
“You’re wrong about me, Hannah,” he said quietly.
“Am I?”
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop looking at me as if I’m one of those bugs Wilbur ruts around for in the manure pile,” he retorted.
“At least those bugs serve a purpose,” she spat back. She was behaving like a shrew, yet she couldn’t help herself. How could he have duped her this way? Insinuating his way onto the farm, endearing himself to Jeremy and Gabby, reminding her that she was a woman....
That was the part that bothered her more than anything. Wood Dumler hadn’t just filled a void at the farm, he had filled an emptiness in her life. And she hated him for it.
“I want you to pack up your things and be gone by tomorrow morning.” She finally was able to quit wiggling and stand perfectly still, her arms folded across her chest.
BOOK: Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)
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