Mail-Order Groom. Lisa Plumley

he said, “I will protect you, Miss Reed. I promise you right now—I swear I’ll keep you safe.”

      He gazed straight at her, willing her to understand exactly how much he meant it. In that moment, he would have let Bedell bash him in the head with a branch twice over, just to save her.

      “Oh, that is sweet of you, Adam. Thank you ever so much.”

      Clearly Savannah didn’t know what he was talking about, but she smiled at him all the same. That was good. She did not, he noticed dispiritedly, suggest that he call her Savannah. That was bad. Her omission made him yearn for that privilege with an intensity Adam would have found laughable a day ago.

      “But don’t be silly! You don’t have to protect me.” Savannah curled her fingers trustingly around his. She laughed. “It seems everyone always wants to protect me! First Mose, now you. But all you have to do is marry me, just as we agreed.”

      Marry me. At those words, Adam stilled. He had to tell her about Bedell. Right now. But all at once, he felt even wearier than he had just a moment before. He cursed the medicine he’d taken. His tongue felt thick. His eyelids felt heavy. His head drooped. Dumbly he repeated her words. “Marry me?”

      “Yes. I’ll have some questions for you first, of course.” As though she were considering quizzing him then and there, Savannah gazed directly at his face. She seemed to lose herself in his medicine-hazed eyes. Then she shook herself. “We’ll get to that when you’re feeling better, I reckon. And naturally we’ll want to spend some more time together first, to ensure a successful partnership. You do know how I feel about compatibility, don’t you?”

      Adam did. He’d read her views at length in her letters to Bedell. Prompted by an absurd and inescapable desire to please her, he said, “You believe husbands and wives should be as close-knit as friends are, able to talk and laugh equally.”

      His reward was a beatific smile. In response, his heart skipped a beat. All his life, Adam had felt gruff, tough, ready to take on bad men of every variety and bring them to heel. But now, suddenly, all he wanted was another of Savannah’s smiles.

      “Why, Mr. Corwin! You did pay attention to my letters.”

      “I treasured every last one of them.” Even though those words were accurate, Adam felt a fraud saying them. Further wearied by his recitation from those letters, he thumped his chest. “I carried them next to my heart the whole way here.”

      “Hmm. You’re getting a bit tired now, aren’t you?”

      “Tired?” He realized he’d closed his eyes. He wrenched them open to see Savannah’s amused expression. “No. Not tired. I’m never tired. I can ride for days, track a man for miles, shoot from the saddle and never miss. You can count on me, Miss Reed.”

      His assurance sailed right on past her. She laughed and patted his hand. “I think someone’s been reading too many dime novels on the train. Don’t fret, though. When it comes to our marriage arrangement, I know exactly what I’m getting.”

      “No, you don’t.” Urgently, Adam caught her wrist. Bedell might be near, he remembered. He should warn Savannah. “Your groom is not who you thought he was! He’s … he’s …”

      He blinked, trying to summon the appropriate words. His tongue roved around his mouth in search of them. While he struggled, Savannah slipped from his feeble grasp. She fussed over him, fixing his bandages and checking for fever.

      At last, Adam found the words he wanted.

      “Your groom,” he announced gravely, “is a bad man.”

      She gazed at him. “Well. He’s certainly not able to hold his medicinal tinctures for neuralgia, I can say that much for certain.” A new smile quirked her mouth. “Sleep now. That’s the best thing for you. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

      Drowsiness flooded him. Adam bit the inside of his cheek, deliberately rousing himself. “Wait. You don’t understand—”

      “I understand all I need to.” In a dreamy blur of feminine fabrics and floral fragrance, Savannah made him lie back. She stroked his arm and tucked in the quilts again, her face open and kindly. “I’d wondered how you would take to me, when we met, too. After all, we shared a great deal with each other over the wires, didn’t we?”

      “No. You have to listen to me now,” Adam insisted, trying again to broach the topic of Roy Bedell and his scheme. “It’s important. Your groom is not who you thought he was! He’s—”

      “He’s everything I could have asked for.” Savannah smiled. She brought her mouth next to his ear, letting her breath tickle his skin in a sinfully pleasurable way. “He’s even better than I imagined. You’re even better, Adam. I’m very, very pleased.”

      She liked him. At the realization, Adam groaned. Under the influence of that damnable tincture, he felt as clumsy as a youth, as green as a new field agent, as needful of sleep as an express rider on the last leg of a weeklong journey. But he couldn’t help grinning as Savannah’s approval washed over him.

      “And since you likely won’t remember this when you wake up.” Still hovering above him, Savannah touched his cheek. She rested her palm against his skin, then gazed unabashedly at him. “I guess I can be forthright. I think you’re beyond handsome, too. So far, it’s been all I could do not to swoon over you.”

      Adam turned his head on the pillow, bringing his gaze to hers. Plainly startled to find herself the subject of his attention—however bleary—Savannah blinked. Her cheeks pinkened.

      “Now sleep,” she blurted. “You’re clearly hallucinating.”

      Then she bustled from the room and returned to her desk.

       Chapter Five

      Flustered and a bit overheated, Savannah headed blindly for her telegraphy equipment. On the way there, she almost collided with Mose. He stood inside the doorway as she passed through, a few steps from the desk they shared. He wore a knowing look.

      She knew what that look was for. She’d gone in to check on Adam Corwin not only because it was her duty as his fiancée and provisional nurse, but also because she’d promised herself that she’d get to the bottom of the mysteries surrounding him. His well-laden gun belt. His habit of carrying contraband knives. His tendency to whack Mose and disappear into the woods for long stretches.

      Instead she’d mooned over her mail-order groom like the most quixotic of heroines from an oft-told fairy tale. Bothered by the way she’d abandoned her stated goals upon her first up-close view of Adam Corwin’s handsome blue eyes, rugged features, and sneak-up-on-you smile, Savannah released a pent-up sigh.

      “Don’t tell me, Mose. I already know.” She held up her hand to ward off her good friend’s inevitable lecture. “I’ll do better next time, I swear. I was unprepared, that’s all.”

      That much was true. She’d been unprepared for the jolt of Adam’s deep, masculine voice as he spoke to her. Unprepared for the impact of his protective nature. Unprepared for the way caring and honor and goodness had flowed from him to her in a perceptible wave, just like sunshine across a shadowy field.

      Savannah had been truthful when she’d confessed that she’d wondered how her husband-to-be would react to her. Of course she’d been anxious. But if his forthright looks and bedazzled grins were anything to judge by, she needn’t have worried.

      Adam truly liked her. The proof was all over him.

      And she liked him, too. Perhaps foolishly. There were so many things she didn’t know about him. But she’d taken to Adam Corwin in an innate, gut-level way she couldn’t deny. She didn’t trust him—not yet—but she did trust her instincts about him.

      Everything else she needed to know she would learn quickly, Savannah assured herself. Perhaps by tossing a burlap sack