LITMIR.BIZ

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horses to the railhead there’d be money for a few extras but for now every cent counted. “Just the basics this trip.”

      Again, children’s laughter drifted out from behind the curtain. He was surprised the boys hadn’t come running when he’d first spoken. Then he heard a woman’s soft voice speaking to them. This last year the boys gravitated toward women—a sure sign they missed their mother.

      For just a moment, he imagined Elise holding the boys, singing to them as she did when they were real little.

      But when the curtain opened, it wasn’t Elise but Society Miss who was staring at him.

      Disappointment slashed at his heart.

      He’d forgotten all about Society Miss.

      He nodded his head. “Ma’am.”

      She’d gotten rid of that awful hat and changed out of that fancy traveling dress into a simple calico. Her cheeks looked pinker, a sign that she’d picked up some sun yesterday. She’d also unpinned her hair and tied it back at the nape of her neck with a simple ribbon. Her hair was thick, lush and despite a slight curl nearly reached her narrow waist. He imagined it felt like silk.

      The smell of roses drifted around him again. His gut tightened and he grew hard. His body was letting him know loud and clear that it had been a long time since he’d been with a woman.

      “I’d like you to meet Miss Abigail Smyth from San Francisco,” Mrs. Clements said.

      Miss Smyth nodded as a faint blush colored her cheeks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you formally, Mr. Barrington.”

      “Ma’am.”

      Miss Smyth smiled. “Things were rather hectic by the wagon yesterday. No time for formal introductions.”

      “No, I suppose not.” As much as he liked her feminine scent, he was burning daylight. There was a lot of work to do before the sunset today. “Pleasure meeting you. Thank you for your help with the boys.”

      “They’re good children.”

      “Yes.”

      She looked as if she wanted to say something else. Another time he would have indulged in the conversation. He liked the sound of her voice. But he turned away from her now. He had more important matters on his mind.

      “Mrs. Clements, can I talk to you outside?”

      Mrs. Clements glanced at Society Miss. “Here’s fine, Matthias.”

      He didn’t like airing his business in front of strangers. “I need to talk to you about the boys.”

      Mrs. Clements didn’t look interested in stepping outside. “Go ahead.”

      “With Frank gone and all, I’m in a bind. I was hoping they could board with you for the summer.”

      He heard Miss Smyth’s sharp intake of breath. No doubt, Miss Smyth thought him hardhearted for sending his children away. He couldn’t blame her.

      Mrs. Clements’s smile faded to embarrassment. “Before we talk about that, there is another more pressing matter you and I need to discuss.”

      “Is there a problem with those renegades again?” he said. So much anger and frustration bunched his muscles now he wouldn’t have minded a fight to work off the heat inside him.

      “Oh, no, nothing like that. There’s a matter you and I need to discuss.”

      Discuss. Hilda Clements could talk a man’s ears off if given half the chance. He decided to head her off. But before he could answer, Miss Smyth spoke.

      “I thought caring for the boys was going to be my job.”

      He swung his gaze to meet hers. He was certain that he’d heard wrong. “Ma’am?”

      She held his gaze, though he sensed she was nervous. Still she pulled back her shoulders. “I mean, since I am going to be your wife, it only seems right that the children stay with us.”

      For a moment, his head swam as if a prizefighter had landed a knockout punch. “My what?”

      Mrs. Clements stepped forward, wearing a broad grin that hinted at trouble. “Miss Smyth is the bit of news I was referring to.”

      Matthias’s head started to throb. The last thing he needed was a riddle. “What the devil are you talking about, Mrs. Clements?”

      The older woman smoothed her hands over her white apron and cleared her throat. “We ordered you a wife. Miss Smyth is your fiancée.”

       Chapter Four

       “Y ou ordered a what?” Matthias shouted.

      Abby started at the sound of Mr. Barrington’s bellow. His voice, rich and full of anger, hinted at a man who was used to giving orders, a man who didn’t like surprises.

      She watched the color drain from Mr. Barrington’s face and his full lips flatten in a thin grim line.

      He hadn’t been expecting her.

      Of course, it all made sense now. On the road yesterday and moments ago when he’d arrived he’d acted as though she was a complete stranger to him. Which of course, she was. Why hadn’t Mrs. Clements told her the truth last night?

      For a moment her knees nearly buckled. She’d come so far, and given up so much. For what? A lie. “Mrs. Clements, what do you mean, we ordered you a wife? Who is we?”

      Mr. Barrington glared down at the older woman. The children’s voices drifted from behind the curtain. He lowered his voice. “Very good question.”

      There was no hint of remorse in Mrs. Clements’s eyes. “Frank, Holden and I decided you needed a wife,” she said, her tone clipped and practical.

      “Tell me this is a joke,” Mr. Barrington said, his voice laced with fury.

      Abby closed her eyes, clinging to her composure. If this was a joke, she was the one who’d been fooled.

      Mrs. Clements’s smile remained intact but her gaze reflected steel. “No mistake, Matthias. We put an ad in the San Francisco Morning Chronicle.”

      “Was she in on this?” he asked, jabbing his thumb toward Abby.

      Annoyance flickered in Abby. Her life was dissolving into a mess and Mr. Barrington was blaming her. “I can assure you, I had no idea. I believed your letter…the letters to be genuine and from you.” Abby pressed her hand to her unsettled stomach. Now she understood why Mrs. Clements had artfully dodged many of her questions last night.

      Mr. Barrington’s gaze pinned her. “What letters?”

      The heat in his blue eyes made Abby take a step back before she turned and went to her reticule. Frustrated by her cowardice, she pulled out a neat bundle of four letters tied together with a blue ribbon. Anger and frustration quickened her step. “Letters from you.”

      He took the letters and thumbed through them, before he handed them back to her. His warm fingers brushed hers. There was nothing tender about his touch. Strictly matter-of-fact. “They are not from me.”

      Abby lifted an eyebrow. It took everything in her not to run screaming from the room. “Yes, I surmised that much.”

      Her sarcasm seemed to catch him by surprise. She imagined a glimmer of respect in his eyes.

      “I wrote the letters,” Mrs. Clements said. “I acted on your behalf, Matthias.”

      Mr. Barrington’s face looked as if it had been etched from granite. “Why would you stick your nose into my life? I did not ask you to do anything like that.” His voice rose again.

      Mrs. Clements shrugged, but she did take a half step back. “You’ve done so much for everyone in the valley and you’ve been struggling so since Elise died. You are not the kind of man who asks for favors, so we took matters

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