Kate Bridges - Luke's Runaway Bride

Clearing his throat, he leaned a shoulder against the rough plank wall. “I told you. I’m Luke McLintock. And I didn’t steal any money. If I had, do you think I would have been standing on Daniel’s porch? And do you see any bags of money?”

She frowned, glanced at the saddlebags, then eyed him with suspicion. “Tell me truthfully how you know him.”

“You know already. We grew up together.”

“One friend wouldn’t do this to another.”

He winced, then shuffled his feet. “I’ve been saying the same thing to myself for eight hours.”

She sat up taller. Her slim waist flared to rounded hips. “Prove it to me. Tell me something only you would know.” A soft tremble rippled across her mouth. She was frightened of him, and that tweaked his guilt.

“Like what?” he asked gently.

“What day of the week was he born?”

“That’s easy. He says he was born to work with money. He tells everyone he was born on a Friday, the busiest banking day of the week. In mid-January.”

Her eyes probed his. “When were you born?”

“Six years later, during harvest. The last week of September.”

She lifted her chin. “Oh…that’s next week.” Her features tightened with suspicion. “What are his folks’ names?”

“They were Lance and Ellen. They passed away years ago.”

Scowling, she hugged her knees, pulling her gown around her. “Well, anyone might know that. Tell me something about yourself. How did your…your father die?”

“Daniel didn’t tell you?”

She drew back. “Should he have?”

“No, I’m just surprised.” After all, he thought to himself, Daniel loved to make himself sound superior. “My mother died of working too hard,” he said, gritting his teeth, trying not to remember how she’d had a stroke while on her knees scrubbing floors. “And my father…” he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall for support “…my father was hanged.”

Silence.

“That can’t be true,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

He pressed his lips together and shrugged a shoulder, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

More silence.

“For what crime?”

“Pick one.”

Straw rustled. He turned to look at her and she inched backward defensively, until she was pressing up against the slatted boards. As if she had to protect herself from him.

But didn’t she? He’d taken her from her family, from all she loved.

Her lips parted. She continued to stare, measuring him with a pensive shimmer in her eyes. Her smooth skin glowed in the dim light and her messy hair tangled with the straw. He shouldn’t really stare, but she had such a wild beauty. There was a softness and a strength to her that fascinated him.

“How’d you and Daniel meet?” he blurted.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d answer. “At a Union Pacific social,” she finally said. “The Independence Day fireworks. Father arranged the introductions.”

Luke found the news strangely uplifting. “You mean your father arranged the wedding?”

In a fluster, she ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, not exactly. Sort of…” She gave a little cough. “It was my decision.”

“I see.” Lots of fathers arranged marriages. Why did this news please Luke?

Sudden anger flashed in her eyes. “You better watch out when my father gets ahold of you.”

“Daniel has a way of convincing people. I’m sure he can handle your father.”

Her voice rose. “Not this time. My father will know something’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never missed writing a speech for him before.”

He pressed his back against the cold wall, facing her directly. “You write your father’s speeches?”

She nodded and plucked at the straw near her boots.

“You’re educated then. Went to college in Boston?”

“Well, not precisely. My brothers did.”

“But not you?”

She furrowed her brow. “I read every one of their books.”

“Why didn’t you just go to school?”

“Because women don’t go to college, that’s why,” she answered.

He paused. “But I hear they do.”

Glancing down at her fingers, she twisted her engagement ring. Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “It’s what my father always tells me.”

“Oh.” Luke was touched by her tender admission. “Yet he gets you to write his speeches.”

“But no one knows I do.” She met his eyes with such honesty, it upset his balance. “Well, except you.”

“Your father sounds like a hypocrite.”

Jenny’s eyes sparked. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“Mostly.”

“That’s why your chest is all scarred up.”

He grinned with sudden humor. “That’s a pretty fair deduction.”

Jenny lowered her head and swallowed. “Can’t you please let us go? Where is Olivia?”

“She’s safe in the next car.” He spun away so she wouldn’t see his eyes softening. For a moment, he stared up at the stars, feeling the cool wind on his face, the wheels of the train thundering beneath his boots. Mustering strength, he turned to face her. “As soon as Daniel arrives, and I expect it’ll be tomorrow, I’ll release you.”

She searched his face. “You promise you will?”

He prickled under her scrutiny. Suddenly the boxcar seemed very small and her nearness overwhelming. “Yeah.”

“Both Olivia and me?”

He nodded in reply, respecting her for her devotion to her friend. She slid a piece of straw from her hair, above her ear. The absent movement made her jacket slide open, revealing the creamy flesh of her shoulders. His pulse dipped.

“Why can’t you be more like your friend? Daniel turned out so good and you turned out so bad.”

Every muscle in his body tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think I do.” She coolly appraised him. “You’re down on your luck. Instead of working hard to get yourself out of the hole you’re in, you’re stealing money. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her comment stung. He braced his feet against the movement of the train. “People aren’t always what they appear to be. This isn’t about money.”

Her face became set. “Then what’s it about?”

“Doing what you know is right. Truth and honor.”

She shook her head. Her hair was a mass of tangles. “What do you know about those? No wonder Daniel never mentioned you much. I wouldn’t be proud, either, if I had a friend like—” She stopped abruptly and averted her eyes.

An angry reply burned his lips. He didn’t care what in blazes she thought of him. In about thirty-four hours, it would be settled. And then Daniel alone would have to deal with his new Boston bride.

But when she gazed back at him with confusion in her misty eyes, Luke floundered. She stirred him. He didn’t want to be stirred. He didn’t want to be conflicted.

“If this is about the truth,” she said in a voice that reached him somewhere deep, “explain it to me. Tell me the truth, Luke.”

The trusting way she said his name weakened his resolve. Should he tell her about Adam? She was engaged to be Daniel’s wife, and didn’t she have every right to know about the boy? She seemed strong enough to handle it.

But he had to be careful how he explained it, so she wouldn’t get too upset. His own neck was on the line, and because of that, and for the sake of Adam’s future, she had to remain committed and engaged to Daniel. Daniel sure as hell wouldn’t drop any charges or sign any papers if Luke jeopardized the engagement.

Luke shoved back from the wall and straightened to his full height. “All right,” he decided. “When we get to Cheyenne, I’d like you to meet someone, and then you’ll understand.”