Whirlwind Bride. Debra Cowan

      He must’ve seen the color drain out of her face because his smile faded. His voice softened. “No.”

      She thought she might be sick all over his dusty boots.

       Chapter Two

      He’d never even met the woman and she thought he wanted to marry her. Amazing.

      Riley watched Susannah’s face grow pale. The disbelief in her eyes shifted to shock. She swayed and he stepped toward her.

      “Are you okay? You look like you might be sick.”

      “I’m fine.” She marched around him toward the house. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

      For a moment, Riley stood there. Adam had sent her to him, and for some ridiculous reason, Susannah believed Riley might actually want to marry her. Not so ridiculous, he reminded himself as he followed her. People agreed to arranged marriages all the time. Mail-order, too. But not him.

      He caught up to her. “I’m sorry I reacted badly. You took me by surprise.”

      She looked away. “I noticed.”

      “I have no idea why Adam would say I wanted to marry.”

      “Marry me?”

      “No, anyone. I don’t know what he was thinking. He knows I have no intention of doing that again.”

      She glanced over, skirts swishing against the ground, stirring up little puffs of dust. “Would it be so awful?” How was he supposed to answer that? “Well.”

      “Don’t worry. The misunderstanding is cleared up.” His gaze traced her slender curves. Silver-blond curls gleamed in the sun, revealing a long elegant neck. Her light vanilla scent drifted to him and his heart gave a hard kick. He squared his shoulders against the reaction.

      After his wife’s death four years ago, he’d focused all his attention on building the Rocking H with his father. A short three years after their marriage, Maddie had been suddenly wrenched from him, her life snuffed out when she’d lost her way in a dust storm and broken her neck. Riley hadn’t been interested in another woman since, nor had the inclination to find one who did interest him.

      He slowed as he neared the porch, while Susannah steamed ahead, sweeping past him and up the steps, her skirts brushing his boots.

      She bent to pick up two small valises, stuffing one under her arm and gripping the other in her hand. “Just what did my brother’s telegram say?”

      “That you were coming to Whirlwind.”

      “That’s all?”

      “Yes.” He wondered what Adam had told Susannah. Before the sun set, he intended to find out. Whatever it was had convinced her to travel hundreds of miles to marry a man she didn’t know.

      Marriage?! Riley had thought he might swallow his teeth when she’d made that little announcement. He wasn’t marrying her. Not because she was the sister of one of his good friends, but because she didn’t belong here. Look at her! She was too soft, too delicate for life in the Texas plains. His past made him an expert on beautiful outsiders, especially those who believed they were strong enough to survive in this sometimes-merciless land. Hooking up with Susannah Phelps would be like carrying china on a cattle drive. Not smart. Not practical. He hadn’t built the reputation of the Rocking H by being stupid or impractical.

      “Humph.” She yanked at the strap on the largest trunk and stumbled backward.

      Riley cleared the steps in two strides and reached out to steady her. She regained her footing, straightened away from him.

      He eyed her mound of luggage incredulously. “Are all these yours?”

      She shot him a glacial look and shifted the valise under her arm, then grabbed the strap of the smallest trunk. The valise crashed to the ground.

      “What are you doing?”

      “Leaving, of course.” As she bent toward her bag, he scooped it up.

      He glanced around. There was no horse or buggy. “Just exactly how did you get out here?”

      “Matthew Baldwin.”

      Matthew? Riley lifted a brow. Matt Baldwin hadn’t been called by his full name since they were fifteen.

      Puffing out a breath that lifted a stray curl over her forehead, Susannah reached for the valise he held, then wrapped the strap of the smallest trunk around her other hand. “There.”

      Dragging the piece behind her, she clomped down the steps, then stopped. She stared down the long, dusty road, past the crude log archway where he’d carved his rocking H. Did she think she was going to carry all that luggage? The three pieces she held now looked heavy enough to break her. She was so fragile and small-boned, Riley didn’t think she could carry even one of those valises all the way to town. He wanted to ask if she’d brought everything she owned, but he kept his mouth shut.

      Hefting the bag under her arm, she looked over her shoulder. “How far is Whirlwind?”

      “Three miles.”

      “Three.” After a long moment, she turned, lifting her chin. “I’d like to leave my luggage here, if you don’t mind. I’ll send someone for it.”

      “How are you planning to get back to town?” He couldn’t stand it anymore; he moved down the steps and reached out to pry the small trunk from her grasp, then slid it onto his shoulder. “Walk? I don’t see a horse.”

      “Oh, I don’t ride horses.” He grinned. “What do you do with them?”

      “I.” She blinked, then recovered. “Nothing.”

      “You certainly can’t walk all that way. I’d be more than happy to give you a ride.” He glanced at the two large trunks still on his porch. “And your luggage.”

      “I’m sure you have better things to do. Fix your pump, for one.”

      “I’ve got time. I feel badly about what happened back there.” Not as badly as Adam was going to, though. “Let’s just forget that, shall we?” she asked primly. “Sure.” Remembering the hurt that had flared in her eyes when he’d laughed at her assumption of marriage, Riley felt his conscience twinge. “If you need anything while you’re in Whirlwind, anything at all, you let me know.”

      He reached out and took the valise from under her arm. The back of his hand brushed the underside of her breast, and she stiffened, her gaze flying to his. Damn.

      For an instant, they stared at each other. Susannah stepped away, nervously fingering the fastening of her cape. Her movement jerked him back to attention.

      His hand burned as if he were still touching her. She might be slight, but there was nothing wanting about those breasts, which were fuller than they appeared under her wrap. He turned for the barn. “Let me hitch Pru to the wagon. I’ll get you back to town.”

      Susannah Phelps wasn’t his responsibility, but she was the sister of his good friend. He would get her back to Whirlwind, even back to St. Louis. And he would get some answers in the process.

      After hitching the bay mare to the buckboard, he drove around to the front of the house and loaded Susannah’s trunks into the back. Lines of fatigue pulled at the magnolia-smooth skin around her clear blue eyes, tightened lips that were temptingly kissable. He wished he weren’t so aware of the exhaustion etched on her face, the slight droop to her shoulders, the careful stiffness of her movements as he handed her into the wagon. If she’d ridden the stage all day, and then Baldwin’s buckboard out to the Rocking H, she had to be sore. He hated riding in both contraptions.

      “You all right?”

      “Yes,” she answered a touch impatiently.

      Reaching under the seat, he pulled out