Tempting Prudence: The Bride Train (13 page)

Chapter 7

The next morning, Prudence was up before dawn. She hadn’t slept a wink, having to share the bed with his mother and being so aware of Arch sleeping on the floor beyond the curtain. If she didn’t get away soon, she’d lose the last shred of common sense and marry the scoundrel—and regret it for the rest of her life.

She set off down to the creek with two buckets to get enough water for washing and cooking, while Arch saw to the other chores. The wind had shifted and ominous clouds gathered overhead. Possibly, it would rain about the time they set out. One more thing to dampen her mood further, as if her spirits hadn’t fallen low enough.

When it came time to leave, Mrs. Childers hugged her neck and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. “Looks like it might rain. You ought not go off without a cover. I’ll loan you my shawl because you said you didn’t have one.”

With a stern expression, she addressed her son. “Arch, you go by the mercantile and let Prudence buy some nice fabric, so I can sew pretty things for her. Shame on you for not taking her shopping before now.”

That was the harshest thing Prudence had heard his mother say, and Arch didn’t even deserve the scolding. Though he acknowledged it with a silent nod.

Prudence didn’t look forward to a long ride ahead.

Arch remained quiet and distant. His somber mood gave her the jitters and added to her doubts about her decision. This morning, she’d half expected him to try to talk her out of leaving. She shouldn’t be hurt, or disappointed, having gotten what she wanted. Her freedom.

“You aren’t coming along?” she asked his mother.

“Someone needs to stay here and watch over the animals, make sure they’ll be here when you get back. Arch can take care of things in town.”

Rebel trotted over to the wagon, his tail waving.

Arch shook his head. “Not today, boy. You stay here with Ma.”

The dog’s head lowered and his tail drooped.

Prudence knelt down and let the dog put his paws on her lap. She rubbed his soft coat, picking out burrs clinging to his fur. She bent her head so Arch wouldn’t see her tears. The hound licked her cheeks. “I’ll miss you, you old Rebel,” she whispered. “Take care of things while I’m gone.”

Arch assisted her into the wagon. He didn’t say a word until he picked up the reins and called out to Sophie. “Git up!”

After they’d left the farm behind, he guided the wagon onto an unfamiliar path. Worn ruts indicated others used the road, to go where was hard to say. Prudence could see no sign of civilization, not even smoke from a chimney. Hardy grasses grew as high as the side of the wagon and intruded on the road, as if nature intended to obliterate the mark of mankind on its domain. Those intending to tame this wild, remote land would find it difficult, although the effort would be worth it. Maybe that’s why Arch had staked out a claim here. He seemed to relish impossible challenges.

Prudence peered at the cloudless sky. Endless blue, like Arch’s eyes. Would she ever be able to look up again without thinking about him? She must keep her mind focused on something else. As best she could tell by the position of the sun, they were headed northeast.

Arch hadn’t struck up a conversation, not even idle chatter. They had never before lacked for things to talk about. However, she couldn’t bear another emotional rehash and suspected he felt the same way, which would account for his silence.

Eventually, they left the grassland and turned onto a road that meandered along next to a line of timber. After some time, the wagon lumbered over a wooden bridge that crossed a creek.

“I don’t recall this bridge,” she observed.

“You were shut up in a coffin.”

“True.”

Trying to converse didn’t help. He kept his answer short and his attention on the road. The brim of the straw hat cast a shadow over his face, but she could see the fine lines beside his eyes where the skin crinkled when he smiled. He wasn’t smiling now. The frown made him look fierce, the way he’d looked the first time she’d seen him and had nearly expired from fear. That was before she’d gotten to know the caring, gentle man.

Before they’d left, he had strapped on his back a sheath holding a knife that had to be close to two feet long. The wooden handle protruded over his shoulder. That wicked weapon gave her the shivers. Was he expecting violence? She knew nothing about illegal whiskey operations, but his profession had to be dangerous and might account for the scars he bore.

She grew more anxious, dwelling on the possibility of him getting hurt, and needed focus on something else. “How long does it take to get to town?”

“An hour or so, depending on the weather.”

An hour away from town all this time. Had she been more diligent, she might’ve made it back on her own. But then she wouldn’t have known the thrill of a real kiss. Her lips tingled as she thought about pressing them to his mouth one last time.

She hugged the shawl and redirected her eyes to the road. No more kissing. No more
thinking
about kissing, either. “The trip seemed much longer on the way out.”

“Time passes slower when you’re scared.”

“I’ve never thought about it, but you’re right.”

“About some things I am.”

Was that bitterness in his voice? Maybe what he meant was that he had been wrong when it came to her. Perhaps he’d finally opened his eyes and seen the drab old maid everyone else saw. He didn’t expound and his staid expression gave her no clue, so she was left to draw her own depressing conclusion.

Looking down at her lap, she examined her work-roughened hands. She had gloves, but rarely wore them except to go out, and hadn’t been wearing them when she was abducted. One didn’t wear gloves while cooking, or milking cows, or tending to countless other tasks.

Her skin wasn’t smooth or ivory white. The sun tanned her before she could finish tying on her bonnet. Brown hair. Brown eyes. What was special about that? Nothing about her inspired men to turn their heads. That’s why she hadn’t asked for too much—an appreciative husband, hardworking, honest and temperate. Not a man whose kiss made her heart pound and whose touch tempted her to be wanton and heedless…certainly, not a bootlegger. Arch expected too much. He wanted more than she could give.

Tears stung behind her eyelids. She prayed they would soon reach their destination. Before she broke down.

A forlorn whistle sounded from a distance.

At last, Arch guided Sophie onto a wider road where the tracks ran perpendicular. She recognized their location. They were close to town.

She had to gather her belongings and let her friends know she was all right before she bid them adieu, which depressed her almost as much as the thought of never seeing Arch again. “Will you take me to the hotel?”

“Whatever you want.” His indifferent response rasped on her nerves.

After she’d rebuffed him last night, he had quit pestering her about marriage, and he hadn’t touched her, except to help her into the wagon. He’d been polite and obliging…and she hated it. She missed the rakish rascal.

The hotel came into sight, the first building on the south side of town. As they approached, two soldiers on horseback rode by. The men’s eyes followed her with interest.

She tensed. What if they recognized her? She would gain unwanted notoriety sooner than expected. Everyone would be asking her where she’d been and why, and what would she say? That she’d been living with Arch for two weeks? She would be in a worse situation than she’d been after Peter had abandoned her. Alone, unmarried, reviled as a fallen woman.

“Whoa…” Arch pulled the reins. The wagon rolled to a stop next to the plank walkway in front of the two-story farmhouse-turned-hotel.

The skies remained threatening, but thus far no rain, only the incessant wind.

Prudence’s heart fluttered like the flag hanging from a pole mounted to the porch support. Breathing became increasingly difficult, as though her windpipe had shrunk. She had an urge to run, but couldn’t make her legs move.

She gripped Arch’s arm before he could hop out. “Wait…”

“What’s wrong?” He studied her face. “You look peaked. Are you ill?”

“No.” The answer came out in a whisper. She gasped for air, truly frightened now. “I don’t know…what’s wrong…”

His brow furrowed with concern. “You were in the sun too long.”

She could work out in the sun all day. This had nothing to do with the sun.

“What-what do I say? They’ll want to know…what happened.”

He glanced over her shoulder at the hotel. She sensed he stalled to consider her question. “Tell them the truth.”

The truth would put his brothers behind bars, if they weren’t there already. Arch had been willing to marry her to protect them. She couldn’t betray him. Especially after she’d promised him she wouldn’t. “I can’t do that.”

The strain on his face softened and his gaze filled with such tenderness she nearly burst into tears. “Here now, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take you to the train station and get you that ticket to California. We can send somebody around to collect your things. You can give me a message for your friends, so they won’t worry about you.”

She stared, incredulous. The man she’d rejected and hurt had offered to take care of everything so she could leave quickly and be spared humiliation. The obvious motive would be to protect his brothers, except he’d told her to tell the truth.

Prudence slid a furtive look in the direction of the hotel. Leaving without any explanation didn’t seem right. However, if she went in there, she had no feasible alibi other than the truth. She could keep her mouth shut and say nothing, put up with the ugly gossip and speculation until her brother arranged for a ticket. Or…

Her heart trembled. Indeed, Arch hadn’t been right about everything. She wasn’t brave. She was a coward. She’d always known the truth about herself. Now, he would know it, too. “Take me to the station.”

* * *

Arch didn’t hesitate. He picked up the reins and started out for the train station. Sophie’s hooves sent dust flying as he guided the horse past wagons lined up for supplies at the mercantile. A few folks stared as they passed. His big horse always attracted attention. He hoped they were looking at the horse, and kept moving.

By God, he would get Pru that ticket and see her safely off, and nobody would stop him.

The soldiers who’d passed by hadn’t acted like they recognized her. They’d eyed her like they were imagining her without her clothes on, which had made him madder than a bee-stung bull. He hadn’t reacted, even though his fingers had itched to take hold of the Arkansas Toothpick and carve their eyes out.

Rage had struck, unexpected. He wasn’t a violent person by nature and rarely needed the knife, although he knew how to use it if necessary. By wearing the weapon, he nurtured a healthy respect, or in his case, a mean reputation. Men gave him a wide berth. Women stayed clear of him. No wonder Pru had rejected him, once she’d learned the truth.

She huddled next to him, wrapped in his mother’s shawl, like she was trying to make herself as small as possible to avoid being recognized. She’d panicked at the thought of going into the hotel, facing her friends and dealing with their questions. They would be the kindest. People who didn’t know her would spread rumors. She couldn’t go for a walk without being pointed out. For a respectable woman like Pru, all the speculating and gossip would be humiliating. Wasn’t fair or right, but that’s how it was, and she couldn’t avoid it no matter what story she gave.

If he had brought her back right off, she wouldn’t be ruined. If he hadn’t been so danged stubborn and selfish, she wouldn’t have to run off to California. She could’ve stayed and married a man who met her standards. Not an underhanded no-account bootlegger.

People crowded the train station, as usual. He guided Sophie to an open spot in front of the land office next to the ticketing agent. Train schedules would be posted inside. Depending on how long she would have to wait, he could take her somewhere, away from curious stares. He’d search for his brothers after he got her safely away.

“Stay here. Don’t talk to anybody. I’ll be back with a ticket and we’ll find a quiet place to wait.”

She offered a grateful smile. “Thank you, Arch. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.”

“Repay me? Pru, you don’t owe me anything. But what I owe you can’t be counted. Getting you to where you want to go is the least I can do.”

He hopped out of the wagon and hurried into the ticket office, not wanting to leave her alone for long with all the folks around. Someone would recognize her and all hell would break loose.

A ticket seemed paltry considering his debt to her. He couldn’t fault Pru for refusing him and he would apologize for sulking about it. She had good reasons for hating whiskey and those who sold it to men like the one who’d hurt her. He wished he’d been able to help her get past her doubts and awaken her passionate nature. Another man would get that privilege.

Arch squelched the surge of jealousy. He had no right. He’d never had a right to her.

After he checked the schedule and purchased the ticket, he elbowed his way through the people waiting in line and made it out the door.

Prudence stood by the wagon talking to a man in a black suit and an Army officer. Even from the back, Arch recognized them right off—the railroad agent, Mr. Hardt, and Lieutenant Goldman.