Chapter Five
Rafe paused at the boardinghouse door just long enough to swipe the perspiration from his brow and to adjust the sleeves of the nicest jacket he owned.
He’d run home to bathe and change clothing, only to discover the only suit he had was in a shabbier state than he’d remembered.
It wasn’t as if he’d had occasion to wear the thing in years.
Miss White would simply have to accept him as he was, he’d told himself.
But those words hadn’t flushed away the doubts swirling in his mind.
Then there was the hour. He was late—very late.
He’d pulled himself together quickly enough, but he hadn’t counted on Mrs. Huron pulling him aside as he passed her shop to tell him about the rumors she’d heard of a band of outlaws tearing their way through every town this side of the Sangre de Cristos, or on assisting Aaron Fetter in removing a belligerent miner from the premises of his saloon, or on needing to turn around and fetch Hawk to handle a horse-thieving situation at the livery.
By the time Rafe arrived at the boardinghouse, he felt he needed another bath and thirty minutes to compose himself. But he had time for neither. Because Miss White was waiting inside—for him.
He swallowed the fear that rose in the back of his throat when he pushed the door open. For the hundredth time, he wished he’d said something to her earlier. She had to be wondering why he hadn’t. If she wasn’t furious at him for arriving so late, that was.
After shutting the door silently behind him, Rafe stood inside for a moment. His heart slammed against his chest and nerves prickled the ends of his fingers.
Why was he doing this again? He had no real desire to be married, no yearning need for children or the responsibility of keeping a family safe and fed.
But there was no turning back now. Cabot would fetch the undertaker to take Rafe’s place, and just the thought of that drawn, pallid man taking the hand of the pretty Miss White made Rafe’s stomach turn. Besides, she had to know by now that he’d received her letter. She’d be waiting for him.
If he left now, she would be disappointed. At least, he hoped she would be disappointed. He oughtn’t fool himself—she might be relieved.
It was no use lingering out here by the door any longer. Rafe squared his shoulders, removed his hat, and smoothed his hair into something he hoped appeared decent.
Then he moved through the parlor toward the low chatter in the dining room.
Miss White saw him first. She sat alone at the end of the table while the others talked amiably.
Her face lit up upon spotting him, and Rafe went warm all over.
Suddenly, it was as if he’d forgotten how to do the simplest things.
Walking required effort, and he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.
Cabot turned around and stood when he saw Rafe. “Good of you to join us,” he said with a good-natured grin.
He meant no harm, but the words grated against Rafe’s already frayed nerves. Did the man need to draw more attention to his late arrival?
Cabot held out a hand toward Miss White. “Miss White, this is Deputy Garland. But I believe you’ve already met?”
“We have,” she said in a warm voice that didn’t waver. If she was nervous at all, she didn’t show it. Unlike Rafe, who could already feel the perspiration at the back of his neck again. “But we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m happy to meet you, Deputy Garland.”
That only made Rafe sweat more. He inclined his head toward her before taking his seat next to Cabot. “As am I, Miss White,” he managed to say.
“Please call me Hannah,” she replied. Her cheeks reddened slightly, the first sign he’d seen that she was also nervous. “Since we’re to . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence, but it was easy enough to finish in his head. Be married.
“Hannah,” he repeated, deciding he liked the way the name sounded on his lips. It fit her perfectly, with her blue eyes and the summery dress she wore.
She watched him a moment, and he realized she was waiting for him to reply with his own Christian name. “I’m Rafael. Rafe,” he corrected. “No one calls me Rafael save for my mother and elder sister.”
She gave him a bright smile at that, and Rafe felt pleased with himself.
He dug a spoon into his cold soup. A plate of sliced ham, potatoes, and bright green peas sat next to it, festooned with some sort of green leaves and sliced radishes.
Rafe doubted Cabot’s regular boardinghouse customers received such treatment earlier in the evening.
Hannah’s meal was already half-eaten, and Rafe wondered how long she’d sat here alone, waiting for him. The thought made him shovel soup into his mouth.
“I fear I never properly thanked you for coming to our rescue this afternoon,” she said.
“It’s what I’m paid to do,” he said, wincing inwardly as the words came out of his mouth. He made it sound as if money were his only motivation. “Not that I’d need compensation to lend a hand.”
She smiled as if she understood. “And do you like your work?”
Rafe paused. No one had ever asked him that question before.
“Yes,” he finally said. “It can be tedious at times, and dangerous, but I can’t see myself doing anything else.
I like the adventure of it.” He and Hawk had put everything they had into taming Perseverance into a place law-abiding men might consider living.
It was hardly perfect, but at least a man could walk down the street without fear of being robbed.
Women, on the other hand . . . He still wasn’t entirely convinced this town was somewhere a lady like Hannah or her friends would want to live. He was half surprised they hadn’t changed their minds after that ambush up near Horsethief Pass.
“Well, it certainly must be exciting,” Hannah said as she picked up her fork.
“Are you feeling better?” Rafe asked, the memory of her slumping to the ground forever burned into his mind.
“Oh, yes.” She looked down, as if she were embarrassed at the memory. “I’ve never fainted before.”
“I can assume you’ve also never been shot at before, or had to press your hand against a man’s side to keep him from bleeding out,” Rafe said. “It was admirable, you keeping your head like that. He might not be alive if you hadn’t thought to slow the bleeding.”
Her eyes met his, her fork stilling against her plate as a flush spread across her face. “Thank you. It didn’t occur to me to do anything else.”
Hannah wasn’t what Rafe had expected at all when he’d been roped into this marriage idea.
She didn’t appear afraid at all when he’d first met her, and what she’d done up in the mountains had taken a great deal of courage.
Where most people—both men and women—would have huddled up and thought only of themselves, Hannah had saved a man’s life.
Yet looking at her now, with her delicate features and pretty red hair, he couldn’t imagine her living day to day in Perseverance.
Just the thought of half the men in town eying her as she went to the general store made Rafe clench his fork a little too hard.
And it wasn’t just Hannah—none of these women belonged here.
Perseverance might be safe enough for a man like Rafe, but it wasn’t yet a decent enough place for the ladies across the table.
Rafe stared moodily at his plate as Hannah chatted with the woman seated next to her. Before he’d had a chance to eat half his dessert, Cabot called an end to the dinner. Rafe stood, slapping his napkin on the table and trying to square his fears with what he knew was ahead of him.
The ladies gathered near the door to the parlor, Hannah with them. Rafe watched her talking easily with her friends, and he wondered what she thought of him. Did she see a ruffian, or a man who was doing what he was meant to do with his life?
Cabot clapped Rafe on the shoulder. “That went well. Were you pleased with your conversation with Miss White?”
They hadn’t spoken much, Rafe realized. After he’d let his thoughts get the best of him, she’d talked more with Cabot and his bride-to-be next to her.
“I suppose,” he said. “I still think this entire thing is a terrible idea.”
Cabot gave him that friendly grin he reserved for anyone he was trying to sway to his side. “You’re nervous, that’s all.”
“It’s not my—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Two o’clock, before the saloon gets too crowded. And Garland?” Cabot fixed him with a stern look. “Don’t be late this time.”