Second Chance Brides (18 page)

“Steady now. We don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

Her hand came to rest against his chest—his very solid chest. She felt the warmth of his skin through the chambray and the rise and fall as he breathed. Sam hadn’t been much more than a boy when he’d first kissed her and asked her to marry him, but there was nothing boyish about Dan Howard. She just might swoon at being alone in the dark with him so near. His warm breath brushed her forehead, but he made no move to leave.

“Miss Bennett.”

“Leah. Please call me Leah.”

Could she hear a smile in the dark? Because she was sure he’d just smiled.

“Leah…I want you to know that you caught my eye when you first came to town.”

Her heart turned a cartwheel. “I did?”

“Yep, but I thought for sure that Luke would pick you.”

“Truly? Why did you think that?”

He was quiet for a moment, but his hand ran slowly up and down her arm, stirring her senses. She’d never considered he’d had his eye on her. Why would she when she was battling so hard for the marshal’s affections? She’d never dreamed then that another man might be interested in her.

“Talking heart matters ain’t easy for me. I’d…uh…like to take you for a buggy ride come Sunday.”

Leah smiled. Since when was a buggy ride a heart matter? Maybe his feelings weren’t as strong as hers. They hardly knew each other.

“I reckon we oughta go.” He stepped forward, without warning, and nearly knocked her down again. His arms tightened around her and crushed her against his chest. She just stood there, and then slowly lifted her hands to his back and relaxed her head against his chest. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm that she was sure matched her own. Dan’s hand caressed the side of her head.

“It’s…uh…highly improper, since I hardly know you, but if I don’t kiss you, Leah, I think I’ll go loco.”

Her breath caught in her throat, unable to believe him. Would it be wrong to let him kiss her? She was certain she was falling in love with him, but what if things didn’t work out? It would make seeing him extremely awkward. Dan suddenly stepped back, but Leah grabbed the sides of his shirt to halt him.

“You sure you don’t mind.”

“No.”

“No, you mind?”

“No! I don’t mind.”

“Oh.” He chuckled and bent down, his breath mingling with hers. His full lips covered hers in a kiss so gentle, so tender, it stole all the energy from her. Her knees nearly buckled.

Something banged outside, and they jumped apart. “Come and get the door for me, brother.”

Leave it to a Corbett to interrupt one of the sweetest moments of her life.

“I’ll get it,” Dan said.

The door opened, and the light of the full moon illuminated the area. Mark Corbett jumped back and dropped the smaller table.

“Lord have mercy, Dan, you scared half my remaining years off me. What are you doing in there?”

Dan stepped out, and Mark’s eyes widened as Leah stepped out from behind him. Mark’s gaze darted back and forth between her and Dan and then to the dark room.

“Don’t be getting no ideas, Corbett. We were just putting away the other table.” Dan hiked his chin as if daring Mark to challenge him.

“Sure thing. I prefer putting tables away in the dark, too. It’s much more fun than in a lighted room.”

Leah was sure her cheeks were bright red, and she hurried back to where the tables had been set up. All the dishes were gone, as were Shannon and most of the people who’d attended the social. She and Dan couldn’t have been in the church all that long. She glanced back and saw Dan holding the door as Mark wrestled the table through. Once he was in, Dan shut the door and hurried toward her.

His cheeks looked ruddy in the dim light of the two lanterns that were still lit. “I reckon we should head on over to the café before he comes back out. I don’t care to listen to his teasing.”

Leah nodded and started walking toward the café. Dan fell into step beside her. She longed to touch her lips, still tingling from his kiss, but she didn’t. Tonight, her future had taken an interesting twist, and she couldn’t wait to see what would happen.

C
HAPTER
13

I
don’t know why them Corbett brothers had to go hire a gal to work for them. It ain’t right that wimmen should work in a business. No, siree.” Homer Sewell swiped at a streak of brown juice that ran down the side of his mouth. A lump of something in one cheek and his bristly beard reminded Shannon of a squirrel. He eyed her with his beady eyes.

“Well, they did, sir, so you can either give me your order or return when one of the Corbetts are here.”

He scowled, and his cheeks puffed up. He gazed around the floor of the office.

Shannon’s gut twisted. “If you intend on spitting, sir, I kindly ask you to step outside. There is no spittoon in here.”

The man mumbled something under his breath and stomped out the door, leaving behind a foul odor. Shannon held her hand over her nose and hoped the man didn’t return. Just that fast, she regretted the thought. The Corbetts could use the business, but she hated dealing with close-minded men who thought women should only be home, tending the house and babies. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but this was 1886, and things were changing. Women had more opportunities than in the past. She tapped her fingers on the desk, wishing that Leah could find a position of employment and not be dependent on the Corbetts for support.

She rested her cheek in her hand, remembering last Saturday’s social. She’d danced with a number of men, but not the one she’d hope to. Mark had attended the social, but he didn’t dance with any of the women. And she was surprised to see the social so well-attended. She had no idea there were so many women in the county who wanted to find a husband. Why had the Corbett brothers sent for mail-order brides when there were ladies already here wanting to marry? Had they not been aware of them at the time they were looking for someone to marry their cousin? Or maybe they just felt none of them were a good fit for the marshal.

Shannon sighed and watched the old codger stalk away. Evidently he’d had enough of her for now. She hated days like this where she was caught up with her work and there was little to occupy her time. Standing, she stretched and looked around. The office could use a good dusting and sweeping. Dirt from the road was always being tracked inside.

In the back room, she rummaged around until she found a halfway clean rag and set about dusting everything in sight. Evidently, the Corbetts didn’t care whether five layers of dust coated the shelves and other sparse furniture. Afterward, she ran the broom over the floors of both rooms and even swept the boardwalk out front and the porch in the back. She leaned against the broom and stared out at the dry Texas landscape. Things here were so different than in Ireland. She missed the green—and the cooler temperatures—and the rain. With the arrival of September, the temperatures had cooled slightly, but it was still hot. The grass had dried, and most of it turned yellow from a lack of water. What she wouldn’t give for a nice rain shower.

Sweat streaked down her cheek, and she wiped it with her sleeve. Such an unladylike action, but it seemed a common thing here. Where was the ever-present wind when she needed it?

The bell over the door jingled, and she sighed. Hopefully Mr. Sewell hadn’t returned. The Corbett brothers had gone to Dallas, and she had no idea when they’d return. She set the broom in a corner and walked back to the office. A man she’d danced once with at the social stood shifting from foot to foot and repeatedly clearing his throat. He must have had important business in town since he was dressed in his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. He was a farmer, if she remembered correctly. His brown trousers and long, dark tan, frock coat looked too big for his lithe frame. A russet silk puff tie circled his neck and was tucked inside his fancy vest. He twirled a black coachman’s hat in his hands.

“Good morning, Miss O’Neil.”

Shannon nodded, her mind grasping for a name. She’d danced with a half-dozen men after serving the refreshments but couldn’t for the life of her remember his. “Forgive me, but your name has slipped my mind.”

“Terrence Brannon, ma’am.”

The man had left the door open, and Leah walked up behind him. She waved at Shannon, held up a basket, and mouthed something Shannon couldn’t understand.

She looked back at her customer. “How can I help you, Mr. Brannon?”

“Is Garrett or Mark here?” His hazel eyes flitted their gaze around the room like a hummingbird darting between flowers.

Shannon held back a smile. It seemed Texas men were either loud and overly bold or horribly shy around women. It was easy to see which Mr. Brannon was.

He tugged at the collar of his white shirt and suddenly dropped to the floor on one knee. Leah’s eyes widened, and Shannon dashed forward. Had the man overheated, wearing that wool jacket?

“Mr. Brannon, are you all right?”

His face flushed twenty shades of red. “Um…yes, ma’am. I was just…um…wondering if, um…” He suddenly jumped up and grasped her hand. “Marry me, Miss O’Neil. I have a nice farm. A solid house—though it ain’t too big. But I can add on when the young’uns start comin’.” His words rushed out like a runaway train.

Shannon stepped back and tried to tug her hand away from his. He didn’t release it. She glanced at Leah, whose lips were pressed inward as if to hold in a laugh. Her eyes glimmered, and her brows lifted in a teasing manner as if to say, “Answer the man.”

“Don’t say no, ma’am. I know you have plenty other men to choose from, but I’m hopin’ you’ll pick me. I’m young and hearty and would make a good father to our children, though I do hope they get your hair. What color is that anyhow?”

Leah snorted, and the man jumped and looked over his shoulder, eyes wide as a spooked cow’s. Shannon struggled to hold a straight face. In spite of being tired of marriage offers, she knew this man was sincere and felt bad for his embarrassment. “Please come in, Miss Bennett. Mr. Brannon and I will step outside for a moment.”

Leah walked in, not looking at all embarrassed by the odd situation. Once she passed the man, she grinned mischievously, leaned toward Shannon, and whispered, “Let him down easily.”

Shannon sucked her lips inward and worked to keep a straight face. While the situation might be humorous to her and Leah, Mr. Brannon was dead serious and had his future riding on her decision. She was getting tired of disappointing suitors, especially when the one man she wished would pay her some attention remained distant.

Outside, she drew in a heavy breath and stiffened her back. Mr. Brannon had half worn out the brim of his hat and looked at her like she was a prize heifer. But she wanted more than someone’s admiration. Was it too much to hope to marry someone for love?

“Mr. Brannon—“

“Call me Terrence—or Terry, ma’am.”

“Mr. Brannon. Your sincere marriage offer warms my heart, but I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”

“But why? You need a man to care for you, and I need a woman to tend my home and to give me children.”

Shannon resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was steadfast, if nothing else. “Do you have feelings for me, sir?”

He blinked and stared at her as if she’d asked for his shirt measurements. “What’s feelings got to do with anything?”

“A lot. When a marriage hits rough times, it’s love and caring that pulls folks through. That and faith in God.”

He scratched his head. “I reckon the feelings’ll come after we marry. Won’t they?”

Shannon shook her head. “A man and woman should care for one another before they marry.”

“Well…I reckon I could court you a while so’s you could get some feelings before we marry up together. Just so long as it didn’t take too long.”

Men! They were completely dense when it came to romance. “Mr. Brannon, I cannot marry you. Thank you for your offer, but I’m afraid my answer is no.”

He stood staring down at his hat. “I reckon you made that clear enough.” He glanced toward the freight office door. “You don’t suppose that other boardinghouse bride would be interested, would she?”

Shannon shivered. What uncouth men these Americans were. They treated their woman no better than cattle. She hiked up her chin. “I can’t speak for Miss Bennett on such a matter, but I don’t think today is the proper day to ask her.”

“Why not? She sick or something?”

Shannon shook her head, more happy each moment that passed that she hadn’t considered this man a serious prospect. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to get back inside.”

The man slapped his hat on his head and nodded. With a clenched jaw, he stalked down the boardwalk. Shannon slipped back into the office and found Leah had spread out a towel, teapot, saucers, and cookies on Mark’s desk. Shannon dragged Garrett’s chair toward Leah, whose eyes danced with mirth. Suddenly she doubled over and started laughing.

“Oh my, that was hilarious.” Leah slapped her leg and dropped into the chair. “I thought that man had passed out, and the next thing I knew, he was asking you to marry him and have his kids.”