Jillian Hart - Jonah's Bride

" 'Tis the gentlemanly thing to do." His fingers snatched up the battered knife before she could.

"You are no gentleman, Hunter. A devil in a fine cloak, and no, you do not fool me. You may be able to impress a sixteen-year-old girl, but I have seen enough to know the type of man you are."

An amazing grin curved his mouth. "What type of man am I, mistress?"

"The kind that could benefit from the blunt end of a stick." Tessa grabbed the wooden handled knife from his big, fine-cut fingers.

"For shame!" Grandfather bellowed as he paced to a halt behind her. A cold wind shivered along her skin. "Insulting our guest. Major Hunter, I feel I must apologize for my granddaughter's horrible behavior."

Jonah climbed to his feet, unfolding his powerful body with an easy grace. "Feel no need to excuse Tessa. I remember her quite well from my school days."

"Little has changed." Ely shook his head. "Good of you to make your way to our table. We have enough time for a cup of tea before the afternoon sermon starts. Will you share a cup?"

Jonah tugged at his collar. The nervous gesture made him look like a thief ready for hanging. "I have my brother to look after."

"He is a grown man," Tessa spoke, reaching inside the basket. "Sit, Hunter. Certain members of my family are anxious to hear how you shot so many wolves with a single musket"

She watched heat darken his face. So, almighty Jonah Hunter could be embarrassed after all. Well, let him be. He was preening before the women like a prize bull.

" 'Tis nothing but a tale," Jonah answered, dismissing the story grown into fiction with a wave of his well-formed hand. "Thank you for the tea, Mistress Tessa."

His fingers brushed hers as he took the simple wooden cup. Tiny flames danced up her arm. Appalled, she stepped away.

"He does not fancy you, Tessa," Violet whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jonah's dark eyes landed on hers, his gaze as dazzling as the first star of the night Heavens, she could not look away. Grandfather's wife tittered, made some comment Tessa didn't even listen to. She ought to bow her head, tear her gaze from his, so arrogant Jonah Hunter could not see the pain in her heart. But she could not.

He broke the gaze, turning his sizzling eyes to Violet, blushing prettily in the midday sun. A dimple framed her smile, and to Tessa's despair, Jonah Hunter smiled back.

"I will take some of that sugar." His rich voice caressed the words.

Tessa shivered and turned away. She concentrated too hard on the task of pouring tea and serving it around the table. Her hands shook and she nearly spilled twice, but she ignored her stepgrandmother's scolding.

Why did she let him affect her so? Because he was so handsome? Because he made her blood heat? Angry with herself, Tessa turned her back on him and tidied up.

"Hello, Ely. Mistress Tessa." A man's voice, rude and harsh, broke through the family's pleasant conversation.

"Horace," Ely welcomed.

Tessa's blood froze. She looked up into the haggard, lined face of her grandfather's neighbor. Watery eyes focused on her. A slow smile stretched his chapped lips.

"I have come to see my bride-to-be." His voice felt as cold as ice. "I want to walk her back to the meetinghouse."

Tessa took one step back and into the table. Boards rattled. A crock thumped in protest. A man's big hand covered her elbow. She looked up, and Jonah stood at her side, wide shoulders set, his powerful body tensed.

"Bride-to-be?" he roared. "What the devil is he talking about?" A muscle jumped in Jonah's square jaw. "Tessa, explain to me what Walling means?"

Little fires licked her skin trapped beneath the heat of his hand. Her heart raced as fast as a bird in flight. Tessa felt dizzy, unable to breathe, as Horace stepped forward and held out one unwashed, bone-thin hand.

"I-" She swallowed, unable to say the words. It felt as if her heart died looking at the unkempt man in the doorway. In the common yard beyond, she saw families packing up their dinners and heading back to the meetinghouse, wives beside their husbands, children huddling around them.

"Horace has agreed to marry my granddaughter and take her out of my household for good." There was no mistaking the pride in Ely Bradford's voice. He clearly didn't want Tessa. Was proud he'd done little better than force her on a brutal husband.

Jonah's throat tightened. Anger beat at his chest. She felt so fragile beneath his hand. He felt fine bone and sinewy muscle. She was lean and spare, too damn lean in his opinion. Looking at her face, so sad, lined with fatigue, it didn't take a genius to know why.

Ely worked her harder than most would work a slave. And treated her worse, too. Why, she had nothing to ward off the last of the winter's harsh winds. Only a thin woolen shawl, ragged and worn.

"Let Major Hunter come to know Violet better," Ely dared to say now, "and go with Horace, Tessa. Oh, and take the dirty dishes with you."

He felt Tessa tense, her muscles drawing up ready to fight. Then she moved from his touch. She stepped away, a slim ribbon of a thing, picking up cups and gathering spoons with quiet efficiency.

Jonah's chest tightened when she folded the basket shut and took one halting step toward Horace Walling. The foul bastard grinned, exposing yellowed, rotten teeth. Anger roared through Jonah's blood.

"She is the worst tempered female in the colony," Charity Bradford began in her irritating, overly gracious tone. "Thank goodness Violet is sweet tempered. Please, do not think such horrid character runs in the blood."

One look at Violet's calculating, greedy eyes told Jonah the girl was far from sweet. Words of protest rose in his throat, words to defend Tessa from these people who called themselves family, but he stopped.

He remembered how Tessa had walked away from him this morning in the parlor, how she'd refused his help, called him wolf, told him he could not buy her. There was no selfish want in her eyes, no coveting a fine home. Hell, she hadn't even wanted the payment he'd offered.

A small light of admiration burned in his chest Not that he found Tessa Bradford attractive. No. A woman with such a sharp tongue could slice a man in two.

And yet she was one woman who-

No, he would not think it Tessa was to be married. She was too old, too difficult, too stubborn, and Andy was right. She wasn't pretty.

He bid the family goodbye, startled by Violet's sultry smile. What was wrong with this child? And with the others half his age looking at him as if he could move the moon, as if he were a hero?

Bleakness beat at his heart. When they looked at him, could they not see it? He was nothing but a man. A man of flaws and fears and a heart that had died long ago.

He did not want a sixteen-year-old for a wife. He wanted a woman, one strong enough to stand beside him, one who wasn't afraid of work.

Jonah's gaze landed on Tessa, trudging silently beside pole-thin Horace Walling, her head bowed, defeat weighing down her shoulders.

"Do not even think it, brother," Andy advised, hurrying to catch him.

Jonah laughed aloud. "How do you know what I am thinking?"

"You are thinking of duty. And well you should." Little brother clasped him hard on the shoulder. "I am just back from the house. Father is failing. Thomas said to bring Mistress Tessa at once."

Fear froze Jonah. He felt his blood stall in his veins. His own legs refused to move. "What? Is Father dying so soon?"

"I don't know." Andy's face turned grim, his eyes bleak. True sorrow burned there. "But you had best pick one of those women now, brother. If the old man does not improve, this well might be your last day as a bachelor."

" Tis not good news," she spoke from the thick shadows of the room.