LITMIR.BIZ

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      Ted considered bolting out the door. But he couldn’t plant the crops with Anna trailing after him and Henry riding on his back like a papoose. He had priorities that demanded a wife, even if he hadn’t picked this one. He trusted with every particle of his being that God had.

      “Ted, did you hear me?”

      “I’m sorry, what?”

      “Join hands with your bride,” Jacob said in a gentle tone.

      Ted took Elizabeth’s ungloved hand, soft, small boned, cold, like his. Under that forceful exterior lived a woman as uncertain and unsettled as him.

      “Elizabeth Ann Manning, do you take Theodore Francis Logan to be your wedded husband, to live together in holy marriage?”

      She swallowed. Hard. “I do.”

      Ted gave her credit for not getting weepy on him. He couldn’t handle a woman’s tears.

      “Do you promise to love him, honor and obey him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?”

      Elizabeth glanced at Ted, at the preacher, then back to him. “I’m…I’m not sure I can do the…obey part.”

      A strangled sound came from Lydia. Jacob frowned into the book he held, as if searching for a clue on how to respond. Ted opened his mouth but nothing came out.

      “But I promise to try,” Elizabeth added with a feeble smile.

      Jacob yanked out a handkerchief and mopped his brow, then the top of his head. “Is that acceptable to you, Ted?”

      He nodded, slowly. This woman had nerve, he’d give her that. She wasn’t one bit like Rose. Good thing they weren’t standing up in front of the congregation. If they were, after this, every man he passed would be guffawing.

      Looking eager to get the knot tied, Jacob righted his glasses. “All right, Miss Manning, do you agree, then, to what I just said, except for adding the word try to the obey part?”

      Elizabeth beamed. “I do.” Then she repeated the vows after the preacher, cementing her to him.

      “Will you repeat after me, Ted?”

      This marriage would be legal, binding like a business arrangement, but far more than that. As his pastor said, Ted would make his promises to this woman before Holy God, the foundation of his faith and his home.

      Ted gave his “I do” promise, then Pastor Sumner recited the words, words Ted echoed in a voice hoarse with strain.

      “I, Theodore Francis Logan, take thee, Elizabeth Ann Manning, to be my wife.” What was he letting himself in for? “To have and to hold—” Would she allow that? “—in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer—” She could count on the poorer part. “—and promise my love to you until death do us part.” He’d try to love her about as much as she tried to obey him.

      He turned his gaze from the preacher to his bride. She licked her lips, no doubt a nervous response, sending his stomach into a crazy dive.

      Next thing he knew, Jacob had Ted digging in his pocket for the ring, a slender gold band he’d ordered from the catalog. It had cost him over a dollar, but he’d ordered fourteen-karat so the metal wouldn’t discolor her skin.

      “Slip it on her finger. And repeat after me.”

      Ted did as he was told, repeating the words, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

      He released her hand. Elizabeth looked at the ring as if a ball and chain hung from her finger.

      “Inasmuch as you have pledged to the other your lifetime commitment, by the power vested in me by the State of Iowa, I now pronounce you man and wife in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.” Looking around as though he addressed a church full of witnesses, he warned, “Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder.” Smiling, Jacob rocked back on his heels. “You may kiss the bride.”

      Ted had forgotten that part. He lowered his head as she turned her face. Their noses collided.

      “No need…” she said softly.

      Well, he had no intention of letting her believe he couldn’t manage a simple kiss. He cupped her jaw, tilted up her face. Her eyelids fluttered closed, revealing long, dark lashes. He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. She tasted of tea and sugar, all sweetness with a bit of bite.

      Her eyes opened. Startled, bright blue, a man could get lost in those eyes. He had an impulse to pull her to him and kiss her more thoroughly. But kissing her like that would most likely stand Lydia’s hair on end. And scare his bride. After all, she hadn’t married for love. And neither had he.

      Like a racehorse crossing the finish line, Jacob blew out a gust of air. “I’ve got to admit, this has been the most unusual wedding I’ve ever performed.”

      “And for the handsomest couple,” Lydia said, beaming. “We hope you’ll be very happy.”

      The wary look in Elizabeth’s gaze no doubt mirrored his, but they murmured their thanks.

      Jacob ushered them to a desk, dipped the pen into the inkwell and handed it to Ted. “Now all you have to do to make this legal is sign the license,” Jacob said, examining their faces as if expecting one of them to refuse.

      Ted signed and passed the pen to Elizabeth.

      She wrote her name with a wobbly hand, then glanced at Lydia. “Could I bother you for a couple more cookies?”

      “Why, of course.” Lydia giggled. “You have quite the appetite.”

      A few minutes later, Ted ushered his new wife, clutching a fistful of cookies, into the sunshine. A cardinal chirped a greeting from the top branch of the ancient maple sheltering the lawn. His horses twitched their tails, chasing away flies. The sun still hung in the heavens.

      Around him, nothing had changed. Yet in less than an hour, everything had.

      A troubling truth struck Ted. He knew more about his livestock than about the woman he’d just married. But then she must feel the same disquiet about him.

      One thing was obvious. Unlike Sally Rutgers, Elizabeth Manning had courage. Courage based on desperation, not on the desire for a family. What had driven his wife to switch places with his mail-order bride?

      What was she hiding?

      What other lies had she told?

      Chapter Four

      Outside the parsonage, her new husband turned to Elizabeth, the chill in his steely gray-blue eyes raising goose bumps on her arms. “I’ve got to ask. Where are the clothes I bought?”

      Elizabeth looked away. “With Sally.”

      His mouth thinned. “When you said someone stole your trunk, you lied.”

      She swallowed. “I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”

      Suspicion clouded his eyes. “If you’re lying about anything else, I want to know it. Now.”

      Elizabeth dropped her gaze. She did have one more lie, a three-and-a-half-foot, blue-eyed whopper.

      But if she told Ted about Robby, about the real reason she’d run from Chicago and into this marriage of convenience, he’d march her into the preacher’s and demand an annulment. What would become of her brother then?

      “I’m sorry I lied. But Sally’s clothes wouldn’t fit me.”

      His gaze traveled over her, bringing a flush to her cheeks, and a rosy hue beneath his tan. “Reckon not.”

      He helped her onto the wagon seat, then scrambled up beside her, released the brake and pulled back on the reins. “We’ll stop at the mercantile to pick

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