Chapter 5

5

His bride-to-be was here.

Ryder expelled a breath, releasing the tension that had been building with every passing day. Now almost a week after his last trip to Worth's General Store in Breckenridge to check for mail, when he'd run into Sadie and Axe, he'd just about given up hope and had almost decided to contact another of the women who'd written to him.

But here she was. Constance Franklin. Or Genevieve, as she preferred to be called.

From the tightness of her smile as she'd given the explanation for being called Genevieve, he guessed the story was more complicated than she'd revealed. But now wasn't the time or place to ask her about it.

Maybe there never would be a time and place. Maybe she'd never want to talk about her past with him. And that was okay, because he didn't want to talk about his either. Some things were too painful to discuss.

As Virgil silently untied her bag from behind the saddle, Ryder couldn't keep from studying her again. She wasn't what he'd expected. From the tone of her letter and the way she'd described herself, he'd pictured a sturdier and plainer woman, someone simple and down-to-earth.

But Genevieve... she was petite and stunning and held herself with a poise most women didn't have. Her skin was pale and perfect, like a pearl. Her hair was as dark as the thick bearskin rug Tanner had given him. Her face was elegant, with high cheekbones and full lips and a delicate nose.

And her eyes . . .

As though sensing his scrutiny, she lifted her long lashes to reveal a light blue, almost gray—the prettiest, most unique eye color he'd ever seen. She peered back at him directly, unabashedly, as if she had nothing to fear.

For a reason he didn't understand, his heart sped with a rhythm that was slightly erratic and too fast. Was he having a reaction to how beautiful she was? Because she wasn't intimidated by him? Or was he just relieved she'd arrived and now he wouldn't have to bear the burden of raising a child all on his own?

Whatever the case, he was having a difficult time comprehending the fact that this woman wanted to marry him. Surely someone so beautiful had a whole host of men who were interested in marrying her. So why had she decided to respond to his advertisement?

She'd mentioned that the orphanage where she was working would soon be reducing the number of staff and she would be unemployed, but surely there was more to her story than that.

When Virgil placed the bag by her feet, she tugged at the strings on her purse, which was pinned to her skirt. "Thank you, Virgil. I do appreciate your kind assistance." She withdrew a few bank notes.

Virgil reached out to take the cash but then hesitated and glanced at Ryder expectantly.

"I'll pay." Ryder stuck his hand into his trouser pocket and fumbled to find the loose change there.

She shoved the bills into Virgil's hand. "Please, allow me."

"No." Ryder pulled out two silver coins, not caring that his voice turned hard. "You already spent enough to get out here."

Virgil nodded vigorously at Ryder, as though agreeing with him, and was thrusting Genevieve's money back at her and taking Ryder's coins.

"I'd intended to wire you the funds for your trip." Ryder had been saving the little he had to help with the train and stagecoach.

"Thank you, Ryder." She tucked the bills back into her bag. "That is very considerate of you, but I assure you that paying for my trip to the West was not a hardship."

"It's my responsibility to take care of you now." He'd watched the way his adoptive pa had taken care of Ma, how he'd doted on her and rushed to meet her needs, even before she could voice them. He'd tried to follow Pa Oakley's example with Sadie, but she'd never given him or their marriage half a chance.

Regardless of the fact that he still wasn't all that eager for marriage, he intended to do the right thing by his new wife too. He'd take care of her, watch over her, and make sure she was happy.

Virgil was climbing back onto his mount while holding the reins of the horse Genevieve had ridden. As he settled into his saddle, he leveled a stern look at Ryder. "You'll be calling on the reverend soon?"

"Yep, real soon." Reverend Livingston lived in Breckenridge, which was about seven miles from his homestead. It was mostly a straight ride south along the Blue River, but it would still take him about an hour to get there. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh my." Genevieve ducked her head, light pink coloring her cheeks. "I regret I did not consider how inappropriate my staying here would be if we're not married."

Was it inappropriate? He shot a glance at Virgil, hoping the older man would know.

Virgil nodded as he situated himself in his saddle. "Reckon you'll want to start things out right this time."

Ryder didn't have to ask what the older man meant. The scandal with Sadie was still alive and well. Boone was the living advertisement of it everywhere he went.

"Please forgive me for my thoughtlessness in coming out all this way." Genevieve picked up her bag and swiped up the lead line of the horse. "I will take a hotel room in town until we are wed."

"No, that won't be necessary." Now that he had her here, he had no intention of letting her go. What if she decided she hadn't liked what she'd seen, either of him or the ranch, then decided not to come back. "I'll go after the reverend right now."

She paused in her retreat. "I really do not mind residing in town for a few days."

He glanced to the position of the sun. "Still got plenty of time until nightfall."

She twisted at the handles of her bag. Maybe she was trying to find a nice way to say no to him and back out of the arrangement.

He took off his hat and jammed his fingers into his hair. What could he say or do to make her want to stay?

Boone gave another grunt, this time louder than the last.

Ryder bounced the baby and patted him, having learned over the past weeks what the different cries meant. This particular one meant Boone was hungry. Ryder had been hoping to finish up the last of the shoeing, but Boone had already started fussing before Genevieve had arrived and now probably wouldn't be put off much longer.

Ryder pushed down the blanket to get a better view of the baby. His face was flushed, and his nose scrunched with another cry, louder than the last one.

"Sounds as if perhaps he's ready for a bottle?" Genevieve's tone was kind, and she was peering at Boone with a tender look in her eyes.

If he could get her interested in the baby, maybe she wouldn't leave. "Would you like to feed him while I go fetch the preacher?"

"I do not want to impose on you—"

"You'd be doing me a big favor by taking care of Boone for a while."

"Boone?" She finally released the lead line.

"I'm sure he'll take to you right away." Ryder untied the knot in the blanket at his shoulder. As the snug cocoon loosened, he held the baby and the blanket out to Genevieve.

She smiled down at Boone. "He's a darling. An absolute darling."

At the sound of her voice, Boone's grunts ceased, and he peered up at the beautiful woman as though he'd never seen anyone like her and could gaze at her all day.

"Go ahead." Ryder extended the baby even further. "He may as well get acquainted with his new ma."

She hesitated only a moment longer before scooping Boone into her arms and cradling him against her chest as if she'd done that very thing hundreds of times in her life. She was clearly as experienced with children as she'd indicated. And fond of them too.

More tension eased from his shoulders. Someday, if they ever became comfortable around each other, he hoped to talk to her about her work in the orphanage and what that had been like, especially since she'd once been an orphan. But for now, it was enough to know that even if she wasn't exactly how he'd pictured her, she was already proving to be caring and good with children. And that was all that really mattered.

He thanked Virgil for bringing Genevieve out to the ranch, and then he stood awkwardly beside her, watching the older fellow ride away.

When the livery owner was no longer in sight, Genevieve turned her attention onto Boone, smiling at him and caressing his cheeks. "Are you ready to eat, little one?"

Ryder picked up her bag. "I'll show you where his bottles are, and then I'll be on my way."

"Thank you. That would be fine." She didn't take her eyes from Boone, was clearly more interested in the baby than in him. And that was okay too.

Ryder led the way through the tall grass to the one-room cabin that he'd been living in since his family had helped him build it earlier in the year. It wasn't a large place, but it had been big enough for him and Boone over the past months.

What would Genevieve think?

He hesitated in front of the door. "I'm planning to build a real house, hopefully next summer." Maybe by then he'd have enough saved up from the sale of his cattle to afford the lumber and supplies.

She'd angled her head and was studying the log construction. "So, this cabin is only a temporary living place?"

He nodded. Did her voice sound relieved, or was he imagining it? What if she hated living in the cabin out in the wilderness as much as Sadie had? What would he do then? What if she decided to leave him too? Maybe the problem was him and the simple fact that everyone he cared about eventually left him and always had.

No. He had to stop the whirlwind of his spiraling thoughts. If he didn't, he'd find himself in a bad place—a place he'd been in often enough to know it wasn't good for him or Boone.

He sucked in a fortifying breath, then pushed the door open to reveal the interior of the cabin. It wasn't fancy, but he'd done the best he could to make it homey. A full-sized bed took up one corner, covered with one of the colorful quilts Ma had made over the years. The makeshift cradle he'd built for Boone sat at the end of the bed, and a chest of drawers painted a bright blue stood beside the bed—a chest he'd purchased from a family moving farther west. At first, he'd considered repainting it, but the longer he had it in the cabin, the more he liked the color.

His family had given him an old table and chairs and sideboard they no longer used. And Tanner had given him the bearskin rug in front of the rocking chair. Over the weeks his sister Clementine had been coming to help him with Boone, she'd brought new things for his home with every visit—a tablecloth, doilies, curtains, pictures of Ma and Pa, and a wall-hanging that Ma had embroidered.

He'd added several shelves to the wall near the stove, and one contained the books he'd collected over the years, mostly gifts from his adopted family—some novels but mostly history books, because he loved any kind of history.

Even though he was satisfied with his new home, he tried to see it as Genevieve would, the way Sadie had when she'd first stepped into the cabin. She'd pivoted in a circle, and her eyes had rounded with disappointment. Would Genevieve do the same?

Genevieve entered behind him, and he didn't turn, didn't want to see any disappointment on her face. Instead, he approached the stove and tugged the kettle of water onto a front burner. Then he reached for a bottle on the shelf, along with the container of baby formula.

Genevieve's boots tapped on the plank floor as she crossed toward him. "I don't mind getting Boone's bottle ready."

As she stopped beside him, he paused and swallowed the rising anxiety. "If you'll be all right, then I'll head on out."

"I'll be all right." Her voice was gentle and reassuring.

He stood in front of the stove for several more heartbeats, wanting to say something else—something to reassure her that he'd be a good husband. But the words—as always—got stuck inside.

When she pried the bottle from his fingers, he finally stepped back. He was still too afraid to look at her face and gauge her reaction to his home, so he spun and stalked to the door. He halted halfway out. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"I'll be waiting." A spoon clinked against glass. She was already busy filling the bottle with the formula.

He had nothing to worry about. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself as he started toward the barn.