The Unexpected Bride. Debra Ullrick

by their first name, but Rainee loved it. It was much more personable.

      “Thank you, Haydon.” Using his Christian name felt quite strange and yet lovely at the same time. “Please call me Rainee. I prefer it over Rainelle.”

      “Rainee,” he acknowledged. “Rainelle is a beautiful name, though. I’ve never heard it before.”

      Rainee blushed under Haydon’s compliment. “My father was British. It was his mother’s name.” Her gaze lowered and she noticed the flowers in her hands. She extended the bouquet toward his mother. “These are for you, Mrs. Bowen.”

      “It’s Katherine, remember?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” It would take Rainee a while to get used to addressing an elder by their given name but the very idea brought a smile to her face.

      Katherine took the flowers, and her eyes brightened as she smelled each one. “Oh, I love flowers. And these are my favorites. How very thoughtful of you to take the time to pick them for me. Thank you, Rainee.” Katherine smiled and again her questioning gaze swung between Rainee and her son.

      The joy of the moment evaporated as quickly as it had come. A sinking feeling came over Rainee. Had this man not mentioned her to any of his family? What was going on around here?

      Rainee’s blood flow slowed way down—either from all the heat she had endured the last several days or the realization no one seemed to know anything about her.

      “Don’t just stand there, Haydon. Can’t you see Rainee isn’t feeling well? Help her inside and get her a glass of water.”

      She wanted to protest, to say she was fine, but she never got the chance. Haydon was at her side, escorting her into the house and onto a comfortable sofa.

      “You’d be more at ease, Rainee, if you removed your jacket and hat. May I?”

      She nodded.

      Haydon helped her out of her traveling jacket and set it on a nearby chair.

      She removed the pins from her hat, wondering if she looked a fright.

      He took her hat and set it with her jacket. “Would you like me to take your gloves too?” He extended his hand toward her.

      She clutched her hands together and squeezed them until her fingers throbbed. “No. No, thank you.”

      A quick nod her direction, and he left the room. Within minutes he returned with a full glass of water. “Here. Drink this. You’ll feel much better.”

      When she reached for the glass, their fingertips overlapped. A warm tingling sensation started at the tip of her fingers and spread up her arm and into her body, causing her to shiver and very nearly drop the glass.

      Haydon yanked his hand back, and she barely kept the glass upright between them. For a brief moment, he stared at her with a look of sheer horror. Then he whirled and disappeared through the doorway as if the house were on fire.

      Had he felt what she had? Her heart was still fluttering from that one touch.

      If he had, was it a bad thing or a good thing? If his reaction was any indication, it must be quite bad.

      Too tired to ponder that, she tipped the water glass to her lips. The tepid water tasted almost sweet. She drank the whole glass of liquid within seconds, even though it was a very unladylike thing to do.

      “Feel better?”

      Rainee looked over at Katherine, who strolled into the living room and sat in a chair across from her.

      “Thank you. Yes,” she answered even though she really did not feel better, but she hated any displays of weakness. Yet, sitting here on a comfy sofa, out of the hot sun, her eyelids felt heavy with fatigue. She struggled to keep her tiredness from showing.

      An awkward silence filled the room.

      Katherine rose. “Would you please excuse me for a moment? And please make yourself at home.”

      After the woman left, Rainee folded her hands in her lap, not knowing what to do.

      Her gaze roamed the living room. On the left of the fireplace were two wine-and-tan-colored wingback chairs. On the right was a matching high-back settee and a tan rocking chair. The wine-and-tan sofa she sat on faced the fireplace. End tables with doilies and oil lamps graced each side of the sofa. The place reminded her of the spacious living room back home. Except this place had Queen Anne–style furniture, and back home the furniture was Chippendale. Sadness crawled inside her, but she shooed it away like an unwanted bug. Dwelling on home would do her no good. No good at all.

      Weeks of traveling and being jostled about and the realization no one seemed to know about her had taxed her greatly. Her eyelids were heavy and her stomach was queasy from a lack of food. She really should have eaten something when Haydon had offered. But knowing she was penniless and seeing all those men in Prosperity Mountain leering at her, she just wanted to get away from them as fast as she could.

      Her eyes slid shut, and her head bobbed. She sat up straighter, forcing herself to stay awake, when all she really wanted to do was to succumb to sleep and dream about what could have been. Finally she could fight sleep no longer and everything around her faded as she fell into its waiting arms.

      Chapter Three

      Haydon couldn’t get out of the house fast enough as he battled the feelings warring inside him. When Rainee’s fingertips touched his, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck nearby and he felt the effects of it, shocking every part of him. How could a woman, who he’d barely met, affect him so? Whatever the answer, he didn’t care. All he knew was he wouldn’t allow her or any other woman to penetrate the wall he’d built around his heart.

      He glanced toward the house, wondering what was going on in there. Rainee looked so tired, he actually felt sorry for her. He shouldn’t have left his mother alone to deal with her, but he had to get away for the sake of his sanity. Besides, why should he feel bad? This whole unbelievable situation was all Jesse’s doing. Haydon had nothing to do with it.

      Of all the idiotic things his brother had done, this one bested them all. The more Haydon thought about the situation and the sight of that poor exhausted woman sitting on his mother’s couch, the more he thought about confronting his brother. He whirled on his heel and headed toward Jesse’s house. The brisk walk across the yard felt good and helped relieve some of his aggravation—but not nearly enough. He leapt onto the porch. “Jesse.” He banged on the door.

      In seconds, the door slung open, and a very pregnant, very perturbed Hannah quickly stepped outside. She jerked her finger to her lips and shushed him. “Haydon Bowen, what is wrong with you? Jesse’s sleeping.” She closed the door behind her. “Although I’m surprised he can with all that banging you’re doing.”

      That sent Haydon back a piece. “I’m sorry, but he’s just going to have to wake up. There are two ladies over there—” he jerked his thumb toward his mother’s house “—who need an explanation.”

      Hannah planted her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Listen here, Haydon Bowen. I know what Jesse did was wrong. I told him he should have talked to you before answering that woman’s advertisement on your behalf. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to deal with it because right now Jesse needs rest. And not you nor anyone else is going to disrupt that. You hear me?” With those words Hannah opened her door and disappeared inside, closing it on him with the softest bang he’d ever not heard.

      Haydon raised his hat and ran his hand through his hair. Never before had he seen Miss Timid Hannah act like that. Seeing no other course of action, he stepped off their porch, mumbling, “Must be something about a pregnant woman that makes them cantankerous. It definitely brings out their protective instincts.” Haydon slapped his dusty hat against his leg. “Women,” he harrumphed, then plopped his hat on his head and strode toward the main house.

      He had just finished unloading the last of Rainee’s belongings