Patchwork Bride (11 page)

The door at the other end of the barn opened with a wrench of wood and a drum of boots. Didn’t sound like
Braden back early from town. That meant the intruder could only be Robert Worthington.

“Meredith!” Harsh tones reverberated the length of the structure. “Are you out here?”

“Uh-oh.” Across Sweetie’s withers, Meredith stepped back, panic pinching her lovely features, animating her in the most darling of ways. “I’m not supposed to be here, but mostly I’m not supposed to touch the horse or buggy.”

“I’ll take care of her,” he whispered back. “Go on. Talk to your father.”

“Thank you.” Her sincerity washed over him as surely as the spring breeze at his back, and he felt her gratitude in his inner-most heart. She seemed to take the light with her as she scurried away on pretty kid slippers, leaving him as if in winter’s gloom.

The mare curved her neck to toss him a questioning look, as if to say, “What’s going on? Aren’t we going somewhere?” He reached to unfasten the buckles holding the collar to the buggy traces, working fast. Those striking boot steps had stopped midway through the barn, dangerously close. Not that he intended to deceive Worthington if he should question him, but if the horse was unhitched in time and back in her stall, the man might not think to ask a question he would not have to answer.

“But, Papa!” Meredith’s protest rang in the breezeway.

She was probably being sent back to the house. Shane lifted the collar from Sweetie’s neck and hung it on the nearby hook. Lighter steps tapped away, her gait diminishing with distance. She must be gone. The
barn door squeaked closed and he led Sweetie back to her stall.

“Connelly.” Robert Worthington’s voice boomed in the stillness, chasing a sparrow from a perch on the grain barrel. Horses stirred in their stalls and many poked their noses over the bars of their gates, nickering and whinnying at the disturbance. A sign of anger in the man’s voice.

Even Sweetie skidded sideways, suddenly nervous. Shane laid a hand on her neck, murmuring low to her.

“I’m in here, sir.” He opened the gate and Sweetie hurried into her stall.

“I need a word with you.” Worthington pounded closer, his boot steps preceding him. He came into sight still in his Sunday’s finest—a waist coat, pleated trousers and shining boots. He was no longer the doting, easygoing patriarch, not with anger tight on his face.

“What do you need, sir?” Shane checked Sweetie’s latch and pushed away from the stall.

“A moment of your time.” Robert glowered. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Clearly something is wrong. Let me guess. You were concerned about your daughter being alone in the barn with me without a chaperone. Is that right?”

“That’s it.” Robert pounded closer, closing the gap between them. With every step he took, the disapproval lining the man’s face became deeper and more apparent. “Meredith is a good girl, but she is headstrong and naive.”

“I would never do anything to insult or harm her or any of your daughters.” He had done nothing wrong,
so it was easy to meet the man eye to eye and ignore the tension thick in the air.

“I believe that.” Robert came to a stop outside the stall, his tone dark. “Which is why you will understand. I have to insist that you limit your interaction with my daughter to strictly the business I’ve hired you for.”

“You hired me to train your horses.”

“No, I hired Braden for that. You, as his assistant, will do the various menial tasks around this place. If you cannot, I will hire someone who can.” Shoulders back, chin up, unflinching, Robert looked like a man who meant what he said. “Is that clear?”

“Of course. I don’t want to lose this job for Braden.” He thought of Meredith in the house. He didn’t want her punished for spending time with him. They had been talking, nothing more. Surely no one could believe differently. “I meant no disrespect to you or to Meredith.”

“See that it stays that way.” Worthington jammed his fists into his pocket, his gaze narrowing as he looked Shane up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way, son, but you’re young and you have little to show for yourself. You’re learning a trade. For that I commend you, but do not misunderstand my daughter’s propensity for befriending those less fortunate than herself.”

“Less fortunate?” He blinked, a little puzzled be cause he had thought the father was concerned they had been alone together and for his daughter’s reputation. Apparently the greater issue was their budding friendship. “I don’t understand, sir.”

“The man who wins my Meredith’s hand will not be an itinerant saddle tramp working a few months out of
the year, living hand to mouth, with nothing to offer. Now do you understand?”

Now it made sense.

“You are as clear as a bell, sir.” Anger built like a fire behind his sternum, but he tamped it down. He should have been prepared for this. He should have seen it coming. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt.

“It’s nothing personal, son.” Robert wasn’t a cruel man, and his tone softened a notch. “Things might be different if you had the right family connections and a fine spread of land to call your own.”

“I can’t say that I do, sir.” Not anymore. He had given up that life. He was no longer that man. He was twenty years old. Worthington wasn’t exactly wrong. He’d built up a savings, but he had no plans to settle down. He
was
sweet on Meredith. He felt closer to her than he should.

“Otherwise, you have done a fine job for us. I hope there are no hard feelings.” Robert dipped his chin in a formal nod before pivoting on his heel.

Hard feelings? Shane blew out a breath, determined to hold on to his dignity. Best to let the man’s words roll off him instead of take them to heart. He couldn’t say that if he was in Robert’s shoes he would have done anything different. Meredith was amazing, worth protecting, worth the sting he felt on his pride.

He was a wanderer, that was part of his job. He was itinerant, he had no home and every material possession he owned could be tied to the back of his saddle. It shouldn’t matter that he’d been told not to be friends with Meredith. The weeks would soon be ticking by until it was time to leave. There was no future for them
anyway, and he didn’t want one. He wasn’t looking for anything serious. Not now. Not at this place in his life.

The sting remained like a welt, tender and inflamed, as he headed out into the yard. Leaves rustled overhead and the breeze sang through the blades of grass at his feet as he made his way to the bunkhouse. The sunshine winked on the windows of the house, drawing his attention, forcing him to glance at the big window where Meredith could be seen sitting at the dining-room table, laying out a piece of material. Her oldest sister stood nearby. The two young women commented, studied, furrowed their brows and Meredith moved around a few pieces of fabric. The sisters smiled, as if pleased.

Shane twisted away, realizing he was staring. The woman had more power over him than he’d realized. He forced his feet forward where the bunkhouse and a good book awaited him.

“G
irls!” Mama’s call rang through the morning stillness. China cups rattled in their saucers as she barreled into the dining room. “Hurry and get ready or you’ll be late for school.”

“I wouldn’t mind being late.” Minnie dropped her fork on her plate with a
clink
. “I have a quiz today.”

“And let me guess. You didn’t study?” Meredith took one last sip of apple cider before pushing away from the table. “I would have helped you.”

“But I didn’t want to do it.” Minnie flashed her dimples and bobbed out of her chair. “What I want is for summer weather to come, so I can play in my tree house.”

“That is hardly ladylike.” Mama drew herself up, shook her head with disapproval and gave Minnie a loving nudge. “Off with you, now. Gather your books and put on your wraps. Sadie! Where are the girls’ lunches?”

The kitchen door swished open and the maid, hair curling from the kitchen’s heat and looking frazzled,
scurried into sight, carrying two small pails. “Here you are, ma’am. Is there anything else you’ll be needin’?”

“No, go back to your work, Sadie.” Mama took possession of the tins. “Meredith, why are you daydreaming again? Stop staring at the window and get ready to go.”

Had she been staring? She hadn’t noticed. Meredith blinked, realizing she was indeed facing the window, and launched out of her chair. A strange flickering feeling traveled through her as she followed her mother through the parlor. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just a novel one that was as pure as the morning’s gentleness and as uplifting as the budding lilacs waving their tiny perfect flowers in the breeze.

Shane. She could see him through the parlor window driving the buggy to the front door. He perched on the edge of the seat and the wind tousled the ends of his dark hair. The new day’s light bronzed him as if he’d come straight out of a painting.

“Did you not hear me, child? Goodness, you are preoccupied today.”

“Sorry, Mama.” She took the coat her mother thrust at her and jabbed her arms into it. Something was definitely wrong because it was the strangest phenomenon that the closer Shane came to her, the more she was aware of him. The tug he held on her heart increased. Her thoughts centered on him. Her senses filled until he was all she could see—not the door opening, not Minnie jumping down the steps and skipping along the walk, not Mama kissing her cheek and wishing her a good day—just him.

Only him.

It was as if something had gone wrong with her entire brain and she was helpless to stop it. She hardly felt the bricks at her feet or the change in the wind that May day brought. The air evaporated from her lungs, leaving her breathless as her hand settled into his. His fingers closed around hers, and the connection between them became more powerful, as it did every time they touched. She did not recall climbing into the buggy or settling on the cushioned seat, only that his hand released hers, he moved away and she felt the purest of lights the heavens had to offer.

It wasn’t until she was halfway to town that she realized Shane hadn’t bid her good morning or greeted her with a smile. He hadn’t turned around once in the seat in front of her. His attention remained focused on the roads. Mud still splashed beneath the wheels, but the sun was out and drying the land. Everywhere mist rose in great cloudy ribbons from earth to sky, and beside her, Minnie scribbled a note to her best friend, preoccupied with the secrets little girls shared.

Town came into sight with children straggling toward the school. The bell was ringing by the time Shane pulled to a stop behind a long line of buggies. Horses stomped impatiently, parents called out goodbye and students scurried toward the front steps as the last toll of the bell clanged.

“We’re gonna be tardy, Shane!” Minnie folded her note into her pocket and held out her arms.

“Sorry about that.” In his big-brother way, the man swooped Minnie safely from the seat to the soggy grass and gave the ribboned end of one braid a tug. “Do good today, shortcakes.”

“I will!” Minnie beamed up at him as if he’d been personally responsible for hanging the sun. She spun away and sprinted across the lawn. “Maisie! Wait for me!”

Chuckling, Shane turned back to the buggy, back to her, the essence of him so attractive and powerful it was nearly too much to bear. She felt ensnared by invisible bonds she could not describe or understand, and she wanted nothing more than to capture the closeness they had shared yesterday in the barn. To reestablish their fun banter and trade a laugh or two.

The trouble was, he did not seem to feel the same. He did not meet her gaze. His smile faded as he held out his hand dutifully, as silent as stone.

“I hope you have an enjoyable day with the horses.” She floated instead of stepped from the buggy. When her shoes touched the ground, it came as a surprise. Being near him scrambled her senses, there was no denying it, even if he did not feel the same. She could no longer deny she liked him very much.

“I hope your day is enjoyable as well.” Oddly formal, he didn’t look at her as he spoke. He turned away and climbed into the front seat, intent on straightening the reins, which were straight and orderly to begin with. What was going on?

The male brain made no sense at all to her. He was simply going to drive off as if they were complete strangers, and after the time together they had shared? Fine, let him. A smart girl wouldn’t give the guy another thought. A sensible girl would march to the schoolhouse, where class was about to start any minute.

Because her shoes were not taking her in the direction of the front steps, she was obviously neither smart nor sensible. Her feet took her right back to the buggy and Shane. He looked up from releasing the brake, startled to see her standing there when he’d thought she had gone. His arresting blue eyes could stop the sun from rising, which was probably why she was standing in front of him and not acting like herself at all.

“Is this because I said I liked you?” she blurted out, wishing for the first time she had paid attention to her roommate Elizabeth Barker back at finishing school who had much experience and endless advice on dealing with the male gender. Shane paled, so perhaps she had been a bit overly bold. Did that make her fall silent?

Not a chance.

“You hardly so much as glanced at me this morning.” She gripped the side of the buggy and met his startled gaze. “You were talkative with Minnie and friendly with her. Then in nearly the same breath you became with me as formal as a judge.”

“I’m doing a job, Meredith. That’s all.” Strain bracketed his mouth, a poor imitation of the dimples that she liked so well. Apology shone in the depths of his irises and in his heart, which she could feel.

“I don’t understand. Of course you’re doing a job. Why else would you be driving us around?” If hurt lodged like a stone behind her rib cage, she did her best to ignore it. “You’re one of those fly-by-night men, aren’t you?”

“Fly-by-night?” A corner of his mouth quirked upward.

“You think a female is getting too close and you race off like a mustang being chased by a mountain lion.”

“And why would I do this?” The other corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were fighting amusement and, judging by the set of his eyes, sorrow.

“Because I said I liked you yesterday. Remember?” She couldn’t believe it. She smacked the flat of her hand against the side of the buggy, mad at herself. “I was talking about friendship. That was all. Surely you know that.”

“I do.” He swallowed hard, a man wrestling with something important. “I’m not sure friendship between us is a good idea.”

“Why not? You don’t like me?”

“Not like you?” He took in the endearing look of her, the vulnerability revealed in her question and in the wobble of her lush bottom lip. “Impossible. Life is better around you, Meredith. But as your father re minded me, I am here to do a job, not to make friends.”

“My father? Papa talked to you?” She looked angry. “I made him promise not to.”

“He was only looking out for his daughter.” The wind tousled a row of bouncy corkscrew curls into her eyes and before she could brush them away, he reached to do it. His fingertips grazed the petal-soft curve of her cheek, the shell of her ear and felt the impact of her sweetness. Tenderness, unbidden and new, rose up in him like a hymn too beautiful to quiet, too reverent to stop.

“What did Papa say?” Worry crinkled her forehead in the most darling way. “He insulted you, didn’t he?”

“He said nothing that wasn’t true. You have plenty
of friends.” The words tore at him, but he managed to say them with a shrug. He was a man unaffected. “You don’t need me.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He hated doing it because he didn’t want to hurt her, but he raised the reins and shielded his heart. “In a couple weeks, you will be teaching school somewhere far out on that prairie, and Braden and I will be working in Butte. There’s no sense in getting attached.”

“But, Shane, I don’t see why—”

“Have a good day, Miss Meredith.” He slapped the reins. Sweetie stepped forward with a slow plod. The buggy rolled a few yards away from her, shielding him from her sight.

All she could see was the black back of the vehicle slowly maneuvering away from the crush on the road—and away from her. Just like that, he’d driven away. Cast aside their friendship because her father had spoken to him.

Not exactly a man capable of great friendship.

“Hey, handsome!” A superior-sounding, very familiar voice lifted above the noise of the street and the shouts of kids scrambling toward the schoolhouse. Narcissa Bell stepped onto the side of the road and waved boldly. “What’s your hurry? I’ll see you later!”

Had Shane waved back? Had he acknowledged her in some way? Meredith worried, seeing red as Narcissa smiled. A satisfied look passed across her smug face.

“Shane is utterly the cutest.” Narcissa’s chin went up in the air, her narrow smile triumphant as if she knew exactly how deep the barb went.

Anger roared through her, but she held it in and kept the lash of the anger inside her, silent and hidden. The last thing she wanted was for her archenemy to know how much it hurt. How could Shane end their friendship, and go looking for another? And with Narcissa of all people.

No, he wouldn’t, she decided, remembering the strength of character she’d witnessed in him. Narcissa was simply going after what she wanted. No need to be upset over her. It was enough to watch the buggy rolling farther away down the street, hesitate at the corner and then turn out of sight. Why did it feel as if her very essence longed after him? As if her spirit wished for the company of his?

They weren’t even friends anymore. She brushed at the curls that had fallen in her face again, remembering the blissful kindness of his touch.

“Meredith? Are you all right?”

She felt a tug on her sleeve. Kate stood beside her with concern on her face and a question in her eyes. Was she really standing here pining after a man for all to see? The sun was in her eyes, causing them to tear a little, and she blinked hard, turning on her heels, lifting her chin, shoring up her dignity. “I’m all right. Just lost in thought.”

“You’re going to be late. We’d better go in.”

“What? Oh, right.”

The school bell had long silenced. Narcissa was the only other student in sight scurrying up the front steps. Miss Lambert held the door open, gesturing impatiently. “Hurry, girls! You don’t want to be marked tardy.”

Meredith felt Kate pulling her along. She was aware her feet were moving. The schoolhouse loomed up ahead and so did the disapproving countenance of their teacher.

“Guess what?” Kate whispered as they rushed up the stairs. “There’s a new girl in school today. She’s got the desk behind Earlee and me. She looks nice.”

“Great.” It was as if Kate’s words had no meaning, for nothing seemed to be able to penetrate her Shane-centered thoughts. She darted past the teacher, shucked off her coat and hurried to her seat.

He couldn’t get Meredith out of his mind. Hours had passed since he’d driven away from her, and still her image of vulnerability and hurt stuck with him. He tipped his hat lower to shade his face against the cresting sun and checked the tension of the longe line. The black filly walked in a large circle, ears up, head up and her gait as smooth as silk.

If only he could enjoy the moment with the horse, the sense of accomplishment he got from seeing an animal progress and the shared camaraderie. He ought to be at peace, happily at his work. But he felt twisted up inside. Losing Meredith’s friendship tore him apart. He’d only been doing them both a favor. Mr. Worthington was right. It wasn’t practical to form attachments when both he and Meredith had plans to move on.

This wasn’t about friendship, he admitted to himself, but something more. That was why he’d agreed with Robert Worthington. The father had recognized what the daughter had not. Shane had never been in love, but
he suspected he had taken the first stumbling steps on that path.

“Pretty day, isn’t it?” Braden sauntered over from the barn and leaned on the corral rails, eyes on the horse. “I didn’t think warm weather would ever come.”

“I was beginning to think the same.” Shane glanced around. It was hard to believe that snow had blanketed the ground days before. The grass sprang beneath his boots as he turned in place, handling the longe line, keeping the filly at a disciplined walk.

Around him the landscape was stunning, some of the most beautiful he’d seen of all his travels. The roll and draw of the prairie and hills were pleasing, the depth of green in the fields unparalleled, the perfect blue of the cloudless Montana sky breath-stealing.

He could get used to it here. Birds chorused as they perched on the branches of the trees in the orchard. In the next paddock over, the spring’s crop of foals stretched their long legs in bright green grass and budding buttercups. Even the wind felt warm as he shucked off his coat and kept the line he held taut. The filly had come a long way, stepping up to a trot when he commanded it.

“Good girl,” he praised. “That’s it, nice and easy.”