Short Straw Bride (Harlequin Historical) Page 3

“Why don’t you introduce me to a few possibilities?” Luke asked his father’s old friend.

  Eleanor watched discreetly as Reverend Mulligan began introducing the McLains around. Her eyes lingered on the taller one and she felt her heart beat a little faster when he smiled at something his brother said. His teeth gleamed white against his tanned features and she thought she’d never seen a man even half as handsome.

  “I’d hoped to see you today, Miss Williams.” Andrew Webb stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Reverend Mulligan and his companions. She’d been so wrapped up in watching the McLains that she hadn’t even been aware of him greeting her aunt and uncle.

  “Mr. Webb.” She smiled at him and resisted the urge to try to peer around him to see where the McLains were.

  “You look very pretty today, Miss Williams, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Andrew flushed a little at his boldness.

  “Thank you, Mr. Webb.” He was lying through his teeth, of course. His crooked teeth, she added when he smiled. The powder blue dress she wore was a remade castoff of Anabel’s, and neither the color nor the style suited her. Not to mention the appallingly ugly hat Aunt Dorinda had purchased for her the week before. The brim dripped with ribbon roses and fat bows and made her look like an overdressed mushroom.

  “I knew that hat would look a picture on you.”

  “This hat?” Eleanor lifted her hand to touch the despised headgear, her attention fully on Andrew for the first time. “Aunt Dorinda bought it from you?”

  “Yes.” Andrew smiled happily. “As soon as I saw it, I thought of you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.” His smile widened. “I’m so glad to see you like it.”

  “It’s…lovely,” Eleanor said weakly. It was also the only hat she owned, at least until she could refurbish last year’s bonnet. The tattered condition of that item was the only reason she’d forced herself to don the hat at all.

  “I’ve often thought it remarkable how close one can feel to someone with whom one shares one’s tastes, even in such small and unimportant things as styles of dress,” Andrew said, his watery blue eyes focused intently on her face.

  Eleanor stared at him, groping for an appropriate reply. Should she admit, right up front, that she despised the hat in question? If she did, would that end the possibility of Mr. Webb being a suitor for her hand? Did she care? To her relief, she was saved the necessity of a reply by Reverend Mulligan’s arrival.

  “Zeb, I’d like to introduce you to some friends of mine. This is Luke McLain and his brother, Daniel. Mr. and Mrs. Williams.”

  Andrew Webb was instantly forgotten. Eleanor felt her pulse suddenly beating much too fast in the base of her throat. Luke McLain. She rolled the name around in her mind and decided that she’d never heard one she liked more.

  “We’ve already met,” Uncle Zeb was saying as he shook hands with both men. “Dealings with the bank, of course. Haven’t seen either of you in quite a while. How’d your place come through the winter? Did you lose much stock?” He looked ready to settle into a lengthy discussion of ranching but a subtle nudge from his wife reminded him of his duties. “Oh, excuse me. Allow me to introduce my wife, Dorinda. And my daughter, Anabel,” he said, pride evident in both voice and expression.

  “Miss Williams.” Luke smiled at Anabel, and Eleanor felt something close to despair. No doubt he’d be dazzled by Anabel’s pale beauty, just as every other man was.

  “Mr. McLain. And Mr. McLain.” Anabel smiled, revealing the perfect dimples in her cheeks. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  Eleanor was unreasonably pleased that it was Daniel and not Luke who gave her cousin that reassurance.

  “We haven’t seen you at church before, have we?” Anabel asked, widening her blue eyes in a way that drew attention to their pure color.

  “We haven’t attended much lately,” Luke said, and Eleanor felt the deep richness of his voice slide over her skin.

  “I hope you mean to change that,” Anabel said.

  “Now, Anabel, Mr. McLain is going to think you’re being bold.” Her mother’s voice was too indulgent to be called a scold.

  “I was just thinking of the importance of tending one’s immortal soul, Mama.” Anabel thrust her lower lip out ever so slightly in the pretty pout that she’d spent hours perfecting.

  “Very admirable of you,” Reverend Mulligan said dryly.

  “Is this another daughter?” Luke asked, turning to look directly at Eleanor.

  “My brother’s child.” Zeb Williams’s tone was flat. “We took her in when he was killed a few years ago.”

  There was an awkward little pause, and Eleanor felt the color rise in her cheeks. Her uncle couldn’t have made it more clear that she was an unwanted burden, hardly worth noticing. Tears of embarrassment burned the backs of her eyes.

  “Eleanor, this is Luke McLain. His brother, Daniel.” Reverend Mulligan hurried to fill the silence when it became clear that neither her aunt nor her uncle had any interest in introducing her.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Williams.”

  Eleanor raised her gaze to Luke McLain’s face, oblivious to his brother’s equally polite greeting. Up close, he was even more overwhelming than he’d seemed from across the churchyard. His eyes were gray, the same clear color as a lake under a stormy sky. They were like polished steel against his tanned skin.

  “Mr. McLain.” The whispered acknowledgment was all she could get out. Her heart was pounding against her breastbone, making her voice breathless. She could barely hear Luke’s greeting to Andrew Webb over the sound of her own pulse in her ears. And then he turned back to her and smiled and she felt her knees go weak.

  “Have you lived in Black Dog very long, Miss Williams?”

  “Six years, four months and twelve days,” she answered, without thinking. She saw his brows shoot up and immediately wished she could catch the words back. She’d kept track of the days like a prisoner counting out her sentence, but she’d never intended to reveal as much to anyone, least of all Luke McLain.

  There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Anabel giggled. “You shouldn’t tease Mr. McLain, Eleanor. Why, it almost sounds like you haven’t been happy with us.”

  “I didn’t mean that at all,” Eleanor mumbled, lowering her lashes to conceal the rebellion in her eyes. She’d get an earful from Aunt Dorinda later, she knew. And heaven knew what Luke McLain must think of her.

  The awkward moment was interrupted by the arrival of Letty Sinclair. Eleanor felt a twinge of annoyance. Letty was her best friend and, ordinarily, she would have welcomed her presence, but on this occasion Eleanor couldn’t help but feel that Anabel’s soft blond beauty overshadowed her enough without the addition of Letty’s more exotic dark good looks. Guilt over the selfish thought made her smile all the more warmly as she turned to include Letty in their little group.

  Reverend Mulligan made the introductions. Eleanor watched in resignation, sure that Luke McLain would be completely smitten by Letty’s raven hair and dark eyes. There’s Italian blood there, mark my words, Aunt Dorinda had said darkly when Letty first moved to Black Dog. But Italian blood or not, the healthy condition of Letty’s bank balance assured her place in the town’s small society, even if her charm and generosity hadn’t already done so.

  Better that Luke be smitten by Letty than Anabel, Eleanor thought. Better almost anyone than Anabel. By the time the minister had finished the introductions, Eleanor was already envisioning the wedding with herself as a heartbroken but noble bridesmaid.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Sinclair,” Luke said, looking polite but not overly smitten.

  “It’s Mrs. Sinclair,” Letty corrected, smiling in a way that made her eyes sparkle. “I’m a widow these three years past.”

  “You must have been a child bride,” Daniel McLain said, his eyes blatantly admiring Letty’s trim figure.

  “I’ll take that as a complime
nt, Mr. McLain.”

  “It was intended as such, Mrs. Sinclair,” he responded with a grin that might have put a flutter in Eleanor’s heart if it hadn’t already been beating double time in response to his brother’s proximity.

  A glance at Dorinda Williams’s face showed that she was less than pleased about this addition to their small group. While she’d rather have eaten nails than acknowledge that anyone could overshadow her precious Anabel, there was no denying Letty Sinclair’s charms.

  After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Reverend Mulligan and his companions moved on. Instantly three of Dorinda Williams’s closest friends descended on them, wanting to hear every word that had been said.

  “What charming young men,” Dorinda said, her superior look only slightly spoiled by the pleased flush on her cheekbones.

  “What did they say?” Millie Peters demanded, her small nose quivering with eagerness.

  “We merely exchanged a few pleasantries,” Dorinda said, trying to look as if she wasn’t enjoying being the center of attention. Letty and Eleanor exchanged an amused look.

  “But why did Reverend Mulligan bring them to meet you particularly?” That was Cora Danvers, blunt spoken, as always. If her husband hadn’t owned half the bank, she wouldn’t have had a friend in the world. Dorinda stiffened at the question, her smile tightening into something more nearly a grimace.

  “I’m sure the McLains wanted to meet my Anabel,” she said through tight lips. “Isn’t it obvious that they’ve decided to take their rightful positions in our little society? Naturally, they’ll be interested in finding wives, and my little Anabel is the prettiest girl in town,” she admitted with an air of false modesty that clashed with her smug tone. She sighed and put on a regretful look. “Of course, if your Mary hadn’t run off with that drummer last fall, she might have given Anabel a run for her money.”

  Cora flushed an unbecoming shade of purple, and Eleanor found herself almost admiring her aunt’s ability to find the most vulnerable place in which to slide the barb, Everyone in town knew about Mary Danvers running off with the corset salesman, but few people would have dared to mention the incident to her face. Since Zebediah Williams owned the other half of the bank, Dorinda felt safe in striking such a blow.

  “Anabel is such a pretty girl,” Millie Peters said hastily, her soft voice filling the taut silence. “It would hardly be a surprise if one of the McLain boys came courting.”

  “I wouldn’t wonder if they both came courting,” Dorinda said, forsaking modesty for maternal pride.

  Eleanor watched Anabel preen, and ground her teeth together. Just the thought of her spiteful little cousin clinging to Luke McLain’s arm made her want to plant her foot firmly in Anabel’s fanny.

  Chapter Three

  “A girl with a gentle temperament—that’s what I want.” Luke narrowed his eyes against the sun. “One who won’t throw fits at a man.”

  “The woman ain’t been born that won’t throw a fit.” Daniel reached into his pocket for his tobacco pouch and papers.

  The brothers were riding back to the Bar-M-Bar, walking their horses in the midafternoon sun. After church they’d had lunch with Reverend Mulligan, who’d done his best to talk Luke out of his determination to find a wife.

  What about love? the older man had asked, running his fingers through his thinning hair. Though he’d been loath to admit it, the question had given Luke pause. It had made him think of the bonds between his mother and father, of the way they’d seemed to complete each other. After her husband’s death Lucinda McLain had carried on, but there’d been something missing, a light that no longer shone in her eyes.

  But love like that was a rare thing, he told himself. And he couldn’t afford to spend his life hoping he’d be lucky enough to find such a thing for himself. Besides, he was a little old to be chasing after dreams like that. If he hadn’t found a great love by now, he wasn’t likely to find it, especially not with the ranch demanding most of his time. Even if he wanted to go off on some wild-goose chase to find a woman he could love, he didn’t have the time for it. No, a marriage based on more practical considerations would suit him just fine.

  “You see any likely-looking girls?” Daniel’s question dragged Luke’s thoughts back to the present. Daniel finished rolling his cigarette and flicked his thumbnail over a match to light it. Cupping his hands to shield it, he lit his cigarette, his eyes sliding to his brother as he shook out the match. “There were pretty girls there. If I’d known there were so many pretty churchgoing girls, I might have been more inclined to pay my respects to the Lord on a regular basis.”

  “Careful. You don’t want to find yourself on the wrong end of a father’s shotgun.” Luke paused and then grinned. “Of course, if you did, there wouldn’t be any reason for me to get married.”

  “I’ve got no intention of doing anything foolish,” Daniel said, dashing any hopes he might have had. “Though, from the looks of some of those girls, I’m not sure it’d be such a hardship to take one to wife. That redhead wasn’t hard on the eyes, and a little temper might make life interesting. A little fire can be a good thing.”

  “In a horse, maybe, but not in a wife. My life is interesting enough.” Luke let the reins go slack as he reached for his own makings and began to roll himself a cigarette.

  “What about the dark one? The widow. She was easy on the eyes.”

  Luke considered Letty Sinclair briefly and then shook his head. “Sean says she lives on her own. A woman who’s been living on her own is likely to be set in her ways. I want a girl who’s willing to get set in my ways.”

  “How about the one with the yellow hair?” Daniel suggested. “I can’t say I’d mind looking at that one over the breakfast table.”

  “Too young.” Luke dismissed Anabel Williams out of hand. “Besides, I’d bet my last dime there’s a streak of mean in that one that’d make a man’s life mighty unpleasant. And a girl that pretty probably spends half her time in front of a looking glass, admiring her own reflection.”

  Luke lit his cigarette and narrowed his eyes against the drift of smoke. “What I want is a girl who’s not so young that she’s got her head all full of romantic notions but not old enough to be set in her ways. Pleasant enough looking that it won’t be hard to go about the business of having sons with her but not so pretty that she’ll expect me to spend all my time admiring her. She’s got to be strong and willing to work.”

  “That’s quite a shopping list,” Daniel said. He reached up to tilt his hat down a bit, the better to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. “You see a girl you think might live up to it?”

  “Eleanor Williams,” Luke said, drawing on the cigarette.

  “Don’t remember meeting an Eleanor Williams,” Daniel said after a moment. He blew out a thin stream of smoke and frowned at the endless vista of prairie ahead of them. “She wasn’t the one with the nose like a buzzard, was she?”

  “No.” Luke shot him an irritated glance, though he couldn’t have said just why it annoyed him that Daniel didn’t remember the girl.

  “She was the one standing next to the girl with the yellow hair. The cousin.”

  “The one wearing the god-awful hat,” Daniel said, making the proper identification.

  “Her choice of headgear don’t interest me,” Luke said shortly. Privately, he promised himself that the first thing he’d do when they got married was burn that hat.

  “There ain’t much to her,” Daniel said, just as he had when Luke had asked Sean Mulligan about her.

  “I’m looking for a wife, not a pack mule,” Luke said irritably.

  “Need some of the same qualities in both,” Daniel said. “Strong and steady, even-tempered—” He caught his brother’s annoyed look and broke off but there was nothing repentant about his grin. “Course, I’ve never seen a pack mule I wanted to share a bed with.”

  “Pack mule’s got more sense than to look at the likes of you,” Luke said.

  “So you think El
len Williams is the one?”

  “Eleanor,” Luke corrected automatically. “And I won’t know till I’ve had a chance to talk to her a bit more.”

  “I don’t know, Luke. Marrying’s a serious business.” The laughter died out of Daniel’s eyes, which were the same clear gray as his brother’s. “Maybe this ain’t such a good idea, after all. Maybe we ought to just forget the whole idea and try another housekeeper.”

  If he’d thought about it, Luke would have said that he wanted nothing more than to give up the idea of finding himself a wife. And here was Daniel, saying that he should give it up. He opened his mouth to agree that it had been a dumb idea from the start and that they should put it behind them. And found himself remembering Eleanor Williams’s big brown eyes, the shy smile in them and heard her voice saying that she’d lived in Black Dog six years, four months and twelve days.

  “I said I was going to find a wife and that’s what I’m going to do,” he heard himself say stubbornly.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Daniel’s surprised look. Since he was no less surprised himself, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his decision. He nudged the gray into a canter, effectively putting an end to the conversation. For some reason, the idea of having a wife just didn’t seem as bad as it once had.

  The Wednesday after he and Daniel attended church, Luke found himself driving the buckboard into Black Dog to pick up supplies. He hadn’t expected to find himself back in town quite so soon and was irritated by the necessity. But since their last cook had decided that California’s winters would suit his old bones more than the biting prairie winds, Luke and Daniel had been sharing the duty, and it was Luke’s turn to make the trip.

  He nodded to Chet Longman, who ran the livery stable and was also the sheriff, when Black Dog had need of such. He heard the tinny sound of a piano from the Gold Dust Saloon as he drove past and decided he’d stop by for a drink before making the long, dusty drive back to the ranch. It wasn’t much consolation for a wasted day but it was better than nothing.