More Than Gold Page 14

  “I must admit,” Jo said, “I expected to meet you sooner. If our situations were reversed, I’d want to meet my husband’s first wife right away. See what the competition was like.”

  Grace choked on her water. Was she that transparent? “I-I’m not here to... I mean, that’s not why...”

  Jo gasped, reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m so sorry, I’m just joking! I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  She wondered if her face was as red as it felt. Maybe she should just be honest, woman to woman. “I’m feeling a bit foolish now. When I learned Gabriel had been married before, I just wanted to see you. I hadn’t really thought what I would say.”

  Jo tilted her head to one side. “You have feelings for him.”

  “I... yes.” Was it unusual to have feelings for the man you were married to?

  “That’s more than I ever had.” She sat back, smiling when Grace’s eyebrows rose. “I had reasons for becoming a mail order bride, but none of them had anything to do with him. He was just convenient, or so I thought at the time. We were married for less than three weeks and hardly spent any of that time together. Believe me, even if I wasn’t now happily married to a man I’m utterly in love with, you would have nothing to fear from me.”

  That was unexpected, and something of a relief. But something still bothered Grace. “I admit I’m glad to hear that, but why didn’t he tell me about you?”

  It was Jo’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “He didn’t?” She rolled her eyes. “Men. Even the best of them can be woefully dense at times.”

  Grace covered her mouth as she snorted a laugh. “That’s true enough.”

  “Before you came, he asked me not to tell you we’d been married. He was afraid you’d be angry with him for not choosing you first. I don’t think anyone regrets that more than him.”

  “So...” Grace considered how to politely phrase her next question. “There was never anything between you and Gabriel?”

  Jo smiled. “Not a thing. We weren’t even intimate.”

  She breathed out a surreptitious sigh of relief. She wasn’t naive, she knew Gabriel wasn’t exactly virginal, but at least there hadn’t been any emotional attachment. That would have felt worse, somehow.

  “The only time we even kissed, I was sick,” Jo added. “The smell of that awful chewing tobacco made me vomit.”

  She winced in sympathy. “It’s horrible stuff. I’ve persuaded him to stop using it, but he’s having a hard time with that.”

  Jo’s eyes opened wide with awe. “You actually managed to get it away from him? You’re a better woman than me. He clearly thinks a lot of you. He never would have stopped for me.”

  Grace smiled, pleased. “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  She was glad she’d come. She liked Jo Parsons.

  “The first time he tried to kiss me, on the day I arrived, I punched him.”

  Jo’s mouth dropped open, and then she erupted into gales of laughter.

  Oh yes, she liked Jo very much indeed.

  ~ ~ ~

  Supper was close to being ready when Gabriel arrived home.

  Grace glanced out the window to see him drop to the ground from Jed’s back. Ever since she’d left Jo, she’d been wondering what she was going to say to him when he got back. She still didn’t know.

  Seeing her through the window, he smiled and waved. She waved back, her stomach fluttering. Whether that was from nerves or because he was smiling at her, she didn’t know. She adored his smile. It was a little higher on one side than the other and it made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He was so handsome.

  She turned from the window, suddenly nervous. What appeal could a woman like her possibly have for him?

  Despite Jo’s assurances, Grace still couldn’t quite believe he hadn’t at least been attracted to her. She was beautiful. Grace... wasn’t. The thought that he might be wishing he’d stayed married to Jo even while he was married to Grace made her heart hurt.

  He came inside ten minutes later by which time she’d just about convinced herself he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  Brutus didn’t bother getting up from his rug, but he did lift his head from his paws and his tail thumped against the floor. Curled up on his back, Ratbane opened his eyes a crack, stretched, and went right back to sleep.

  Gabriel leaned down to ruffle Brutus’ head. “Before you came, he at least stood up to greet me. Now I’m just second best.” He glanced at R.B. nestled on Brutus’ back. “Or possibly third.” He straightened and walked around her to lean against the cupboard beside the stove. “Something smells good.”

  Second best, was that what she was? Was she even second?

  She placed the lid back on the saucepan, resting it against the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir. “Mutton stew. I went into town today to get a few things and I thought it would make a nice change from beef.”

  He gave her an easy smile. “Having you here with my supper cooking when I get home is one of the best things about being married. Don’t know why I didn’t get me a wife sooner.”

  She walked around him to fetch the bread from the breadbox, trying to keep her voice steady. “If you had, then it wouldn’t have been me.”

  There was silence for a while as she sliced the bread, not daring to look at him.

  “Then I reckon it’s a good thing I waited,” he said eventually.

  The knife stilled in her hand. “Is it?”

  “Course it is.” He took a step towards her. “Grace, is something wrong?”

  She shook her head, forcing herself to resume slicing the bread. “No.”

  His hand rested gently over hers, halting her movements. “What’s wrong? Have I done something?”

  For a man who could be astoundingly oblivious sometimes, he was far too observant.

  She had to take a breath before speaking, staring down at his hand still on hers. “I met Jo today.”

  “Oh.” His hand slipped away.

  She finally looked up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been married before?”

  He pushed his hands into his pockets, not meeting her gaze. “I was going to. It just never seemed like the right time.”

  She placed the knife down and turned to face him. Now it was out, she wanted to know everything. “Were you corresponding with her and me at the same time?”

  He nodded, his eyes on his boots.

  “So you had the two of us to choose from and you picked her. Or were there more? Was I even your second choice?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. She should have known no man would choose her if they had other options. Wasn’t that how it had always been?

  Tears burned suddenly at her eyes and she turned and walked away from him, coming to a stop in the middle of the room and crossing her arms. This wasn’t how it was meant to go. She didn’t want him to know how upset she was.

  A good half minute of silence passed with Grace determinedly staring out the window and not crying.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded, whirling round to glare at him. Annoyance replaced her hurt when she found him smiling at her. “What on earth are you smiling for?”

  His smile grew, much to her irritation. “All this time I figured you for a smart woman, but looks like I was wrong.”

  Her voice rose. “So help me, if you don’t start making sense I’m going to give your supper to Brutus!”

  Brutus lifted his head at the sound of either his name or the word ‘supper’.

  Gabriel rocked back on his heels, his smile still firmly in place. “You’re jealous.”

  “I am not!” She was.

  “Then why are you getting so riled up over the ridiculous notion that I might prefer another woman over you?”

  “I... I’m not. I just don’t like that you kept secret the fact that you’d had another mail order bride before me.”

  Wait, did he just say ridiculo
us notion?

  He shook his head, still grinning. “Nope. You’re jealous. And I thought you were smart enough to know that there’s no other woman on this earth that I’d rather have as my wife than you.”

  It was a few seconds before she noticed that her mouth was hanging open.

  His smile faded. “I never had any feelings for Jo. We weren’t right for each other. I made the wrong choice. If I’d known you I would have picked you, right from the start.”

  She closed her mouth, with some effort. “You... you would?”

  His smile returned, just a little, and he took a couple of steps towards her. “Yup.”

  She gazed up at him. “So you don’t wish she was still your wife?”

  He took another few steps forward. “Nope.”

  “But... but she’s so much prettier than me.”

  Confusion crossed his face. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”

  “I...” She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the town. “She just is.”

  He frowned. “Grace Silversmith, hasn’t anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

  Her mouth was hanging open again, she knew it. “Uh... no. Well, my mother, but mothers always think their daughters are pretty.”

  His smile returned as he took two more steps closer, so close now that she had to tilt her head up to look at him.

  His voice lowered. “Well, if there’s one thing I know about mothers, it’s that they’re just about always right.” His gaze flicked to her lips and her heart stuttered. “Grace, I...” He stopped and raised his head. “Is something burning?”

  Her eyes widened. “The stew!”

  She rushed around him to the stove, just remembering to grab a cloth rather than grasping the saucepan handle with her bare hand. She moved it to the trivet on the cupboard beside the stove and lifted the lid. Steam billowed out.

  “Could you pass the bowl from the table?” She stirred the contents rapidly to stop them sticking to the bottom.

  He brought the bowl and took the cloth from her so he could lift the saucepan and pour in the stew. Her skin tingled as his arm brushed against hers.

  “Is it all right?” he said, scraping the last of the stew into the bowl.

  She glanced up at him beside her, feeling her cheeks heat when he looked down at her and smiled. “I think so.”

  “Good. Let’s eat.” He touched the small of her back before picking up the knife to finish slicing the bread.

  She carried the bowl of stew to the table, a smile tugging at her lips.

  He thought she was pretty. And he liked her better than Jo. It felt good to be someone’s first choice for once.

  But what felt even better was that she was Gabriel’s first choice.

  Chapter 14

  “I’m going into town before I go to my claim,” Gabriel said at breakfast the next morning. “You want to come?”

  Grace considered if she needed to go again, having only been there the previous day. There was still so much to do at home, with the barns and cleaning and...

  She stopped, suddenly realizing what she was doing. She’d have thought nothing of going out two or even more days in a row back in New York. Could it be she was becoming used to the solitude of living so far out of town? Was it possible she was even beginning to enjoy it?

  Maybe so, but she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to visit with some of her new friends. Maybe she’d even go and see Jo again.

  “I’d like that.”

  His smile set off a butterfly in her stomach. “We’ll leave after breakfast then.”

  By the time Grace had finished cleaning up and was ready to leave, Gabriel had the buggy hitched up to Fred and was waiting for her in the yard.

  His eyes sauntered over the green dress she’d changed into. “That color looks real pretty on you.”

  More butterflies. Since the previous day when he’d told her he thought her pretty, she’d been feeling different around him. Strange. Awkward. Happy. She couldn’t work out if she liked it or not, but she was leaning towards the former.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiled and nodded and wrapped his hands around her waist to help her into the buggy. She was beginning to thoroughly enjoy getting in and out of carriages.

  “What the...” He huffed out a breath as she sat. “Not again.”

  She looked down at him then back at whatever had his attention behind her.

  Mr. Fowler was riding into the yard.

  He lifted his hat. “Good morning. Isn’t it a lovely day?”

  Gabriel moved his hand closer to the revolver at his hip. “What do you want, Fowler?”

  Mr. Fowler’s mouth turned up in a smile that came nowhere near reaching his eyes. “Just paying a friendly visit.”

  Gabriel walked forward and grasped the rein of Fowler’s horse, bringing it to a halt. “I’ll thank you to stop paying any visits, friendly or otherwise. Especially when I’m not here.”

  “Ah, you’re referring to my last visit when I spoke to Mrs. Silversmith. My apologies. I hadn’t realized she was alone.” Mr. Fowler’s eyes flicked to Grace. “I do hope I didn’t scare you at all, ma’am.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she replied. “I do hope Brutus didn’t scare you or your horse too badly.”

  Mr. Fowler’s gaze shifted to the porch where Brutus stood at the top of the steps, eyes fixed on him. “Not at all.” He was obviously lying. “Well, I won’t take up much of your time. I just wanted to see if you’d had a chance to talk with your husband about what we discussed.”

  She climbed to the ground and walked up beside Gabriel. “Yes, I did. And I stand with my husband. The answer is no.”

  Although he still smiled, Mr. Fowler’s expression turned hard. “Are you sure about that? Two thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

  “We’re sure.” She slipped her arm around Gabriel’s.

  Mr. Fowler’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “Well then, I guess there’s nothing more to say. Would you kindly release my horse, Mr. Silversmith?”

  He let go of the rein and Mr. Fowler dipped his head. “Mr. Silversmith. Mrs. Silversmith.”

  “Reckon he thought you could change my mind,” Gabriel said as they watched him ride away.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Reckon he was wrong in assuming I’d want to.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “I have something I need to do. Will you be all right on your own for a bit?”

  Gabriel tried to keep his voice casual as they passed the first few houses at the edge of Green Hill Creek. Grace would find out soon enough what he’d come into town for, but he didn’t want her to suspect just yet.

  “Of course,” she replied. “Could you leave me at Jo’s house? I thought I’d see if she was home. I like her. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

  He stared at her in dismay. There was no scenario in which his current and former wives being friends was a good thing for him. “You are?”

  She laughed at his expression. “Don’t worry, we won’t talk about you all the time.”

  There had to be a way to salvage the situation. “Just remember, I didn’t know then how to treat a woman. I’m a far better man now, thanks to you.”

  Oh, that was good. He’d impressed himself with that one.

  She gave him a knowing smile. “You’re learning.”

  He left Grace at Zach and Jo’s house. Climbing back into the buggy, he had the strongest urge to drive away before his former wife appeared, but his newfound manners compelled him to remain, at least until the door opened. When it did, Grace said something to Jo he couldn’t hear, Jo waved to him, and they both burst into laughter as they walked inside.

  He was doomed.

  He paid a visit to Peter Johnson at the town’s smithy first, and then went on to the barber.

  Marco Calderon waved him into a chair. “Morning, Gabriel. Don’t see you in here often. Special occasion coming up?”

  Gabriel shifted in t
he chair, trying not to look at himself in the mirror mounted on the wall in front of him. “Just thought I’d try a change, that’s all.”

  Marco draped a cloth over his chest. “Change is good for the soul, as my mother always says, usually when she wants to change something. What can I do for you?”

  Gabriel finally looked at his reflection. It would be fine. He could always grow it back.

  He waved one hand at his face. “Shave it off.”

  ~ ~ ~

  He felt naked. He was fully clothed and yet he felt naked.

  Gabriel pulled his hat down lower, dipping his head and running one hand over his unnaturally smooth jaw. It felt completely wrong, and his face was chilly.

  He should have just had his beard and moustache trimmed. Surely that would have been enough for Grace. There was nothing wrong with a bit of facial hair. It was manly.

  But he’d had Marco take off the whole lot and now his face was as bare as a newborn’s. And it felt... naked.

  Pushing his hands into his pockets, he stared at the ground and picked up his pace. He needed to get out of town before someone he knew saw him.

  He slowed as he reached the buggy where he’d left it outside the hotel. Grace was already there on the seat, her eyes on a book open in her lap. He was suddenly nervous for her to see him, which was ridiculous because he’d shaved for her, because she’d said he’d look good without his beard. If only she’d kept that thought to herself.

  Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the buggy. Grace looked up from her book.

  And stared.

  And stared.

  He swallowed, running one hand across his jaw again.

  “You had your beard shaved,” she said, after what felt like an interminable amount of staring.

  “Yes.” Did she like it? If she didn’t, he was never following any of her suggestions again.

  Her hand rose as if she wanted to touch him. “You look so handsome.”