Secondhand Bride by Linda Lael Miller Page B

Chloe’s face.
    Reluctantly, Harry rose to obey. He’d clearly taken in every word of the conversation up until then, and his eagerness to secure an education, and thus become more like Kade, had been mounting visibly the whole while. “It’ll probably be beans again,” he warned, with a note of stalwart pragmatism.
    “I certainly hope not,” Doc replied smoothly. “I’m in the mood for corned beef hash.” He took a few coins from his pocket and gave them to the boy. “Stop by the mercantile on the way and see if they’ve got any canned meat. There ought to be enough for a piece of penny candy, too.”
    His enthusiasm renewed, Harry leaped off the porch and raced to the gate, pausing there to look back at Chloe, all bright countenance and good cheer. “You won’t go anywhere, will you, Miss Wakefield? Before I learn the names of some stars, I mean, and how to add numbers in my head?”
    Chloe couldn’t bring herself to answer; a lump of longing had risen in her throat. Her gaze shifted back to Doc Boylen’s kindly face, and Harry went on about his business.
    “I’m married,” she said straightforwardly, “and not for the first time.” Most female teachers were single; working wives were frowned upon. Any hint of scandal was cause for prompt dismissal. “My references may be less than glowing, as well.”
    Doc Boylen set one foot on the step Harry had vacated and rested a forearm on his knee. “Are you a good teacher, Chloe Wakefield?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she said. “I certainly am.”
    A mischievous light danced in his eyes. “Just how many husbands do you have?”
    She smiled, albeit sadly. “I’ve had two. I divorced the first one when I found out he was a paid gunslinger, and the second one isn’t too sure he wants to claim me.”
    “Why’s that?”
    She sighed. “He didn’t know about the first one.”
    “Ah,” said Doc, with a sage nod of his head. “I see. And where is this confused fellow now?”
    “Down at the Arizona Hotel, last time I looked,” she answered. “Jeb McKettrick and I are—separated.”
    “I see,” Doc said, taking a few moments to consider. Then he smiled and shook his head at some amusing thought. “So you’re the wife he kept bragging about. Most of us didn’t believe you existed—Jeb’s been known to play fast and loose with the truth on occasion.”
    Chloe spread her hands. “Here I am,” she said, somewhat ruefully. “In the flesh.”
    Doc mused a while. “He’s likely to carry you off to that ranch sooner or later,” he went on presently. “Probably sooner, if he’s anything like Rafe and Kade, and obviously, he is.”
    Chloe straightened her spine, vertebra by vertebra. “I don’t think there’s any danger of that,” she said. “We’ve got some serious differences.”
    “I won’t ask what those differences are, but I daresay the two of you must have agreed on something, if you tied the knot in the first place. Just the same, if you can promise me a full year of service, I’ll hire you right now.”
    Chloe tried to speak, failed, and tried again. “Thank you,” she managed.
    Doc took out his pocket watch, flipped open the case, and frowned at what he saw there. “Thirty dollars a month, the cottage, and meals. You agree to that, Mrs. McKettrick?”
    “Yes,” Chloe said, praying she would not come to regret the decision. “My answer is yes.”

14
     
     
    H olt had known, the moment he looked at Lizzie, lying there sleeping, with her dark hair spilling over Becky’s linen pillowcase, that she was his. He saw himself in her and, more importantly, he saw Olivia. It had been all he could do not to awaken the child and demand to know where her mother was, but compassion had stayed his hand. She was a fragile little thing, and even though he had yet to learn the details, he knew she’d been through hell.
    There would be time enough to question her later, when she’d awakened, and the two of them had been properly