The Borrowed Bride. Elizabeth Lane

mother of his child.”

      “And what about your mother? Will she approve of what you’re doing?”

      “It’s my decision to make. Mother’s washed her hands of the whole ranch business.”

      “I see.” Hannah lowered her gaze and made a show of enjoying the sweet rice pudding. According to the Bible, her mother and the fiery sermons she’d heard in church, she deserved to burn in hell for what she’d let Quint do. Instead, it was if the gates of paradise had opened, spilling out all the fine things she’d never had. Reason told her there would have to be a time of reckoning.

      The risen moon hung like a pearl against the velvet sky. From inside the house came the sound of a door closing and Gretel’s heavy footsteps fading down the hall. A floorboard creaked. Then there was only the drone of crickets and the rustle of the wind in through long blades of grass.

      Judd hadn’t spoken. The silence between them was growing awkward. Hannah set her bowl on the step and cleared her throat.

      “How’s your mother’s headache?” she asked, making a try at conversation.

      She sensed a slight hesitation. “My mother’s headache will be better when she wants it to be. For now, she’s asleep. I’m guessing she’ll be fine in the morning.”

      “Until she sets eyes on me, she will.” Hannah shook her head. “Why does she hate me so much, Judd?”

      “It’s change she hates, not you. Give her time. She’ll come around.”

      “She can take all the time she wants. Meanwhile, I plan to stay out of her way. Not that I’m ungrateful, mind you. This is her home, after all, and she has a right to peace and quiet. It’s just…” Hannah’s voice trailed off. She stared down at her hands.

      “Just what?”

      “It doesn’t really matter how your mother feels about me. But I want her to love the baby. I want my child—Quint’s child—to be happy here.”

      Judd had been gazing across the yard. Now he turned toward her, his face in shadow. “My mother isn’t a bad woman, Hannah. She’s old and sad and set in her ways. Give her a chance.”

      “Will she give me a chance?”

      “Eventually, I hope. But you may need to make the first move.”

      Hannah felt her heart shrink inside her chest. “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.”

      “Suit yourself.” Judd rose wearily. “It’s getting late. I’ll be leaving with the men at first light to drive the herd up to summer pasture. You won’t be seeing me for the next couple of weeks. But Sam Burton, the assistant foreman will be staying here to keep an eye on things. He’ll know where to find me if I’m needed.”

      Hannah bit back a murmur of dismay. If not quite a friend, Judd was the closest thing she had to an ally. Now he’d be leaving her alone with those two forbidding old women.

      “We’ll go to the bank when I get back. Meanwhile, I’ll get some cash out of the safe and leave it under the blotter on my desk. Take it. Use it for anything you need.”

      Hannah gulped back a rush of emotion. “I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever been so generous with me.”

      “I’m just doing what any brother would do for his sister. I hope you’ll look on me that way. As a brother.”

      He reached down to help her to her feet. His big hand was leathery with calluses, his skin cool against her fingertips. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint your family.”

      “Just be happy here. For now, that’s enough.”

      He loomed above her in the darkness, his eyes hooded. Her hand lingered in his like a small animal seeking safety.

      Suddenly she realized she was trembling.

      Judd released her and stepped back. “You look all in,” he said. “It’s been a long day for both of us. Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

      Hannah preceded him through the open doorway to the front hall. A glowing lantern hung from a hook on the door frame. Taking it in his hand, Judd led the way up the dark stairs to the second floor. The bedroom doors were closed. His was on the left, hers on the right.

      “You’ll need this.” He opened Hannah’s door and handed her the lantern. “Remember, if anything frightens you just call out. I’ll hear you.”

      “I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything, Judd.”

      He stood looking down at her, the lamplight flickering on his face. He was her husband. This was their wedding night. Hannah grappled with a sense of unreality. Maybe tomorrow she’d wake up and discover that the whole day had been a strange dream.

      Maybe tomorrow a letter from Quint would arrive, and everything would be put right.

      “Sleep well, Hannah.” He turned away, went into his own room and closed the door. Hannah did the same. Light from the lantern cast distorted shadows on the papered walls. She could hear Judd moving about, walking across the floor, taking off his boots, opening and closing a drawer. He could hear her equally well, Hannah reminded herself as she peeled off her clothes and dropped her flannel nightgown over her head. He might even be able to hear her using her chamber pot. She would need to be mindful of every sound she made.

      Snuffing the lantern flame, she crawled under the covers. After so many years of sleeping with her sisters, Hannah felt lost in the vastness of the double bed. She stretched her limbs, touching all four corners at the same time. The sensation of emptiness was frightening.

      She was exhausted after the emotional day. Even so, sleep was a long time coming. The bed was too soft, the room too silent. Hannah missed the sound of breathing and the familiar, warm aroma of her slumbering sisters.

      Only when she lay straight along the edge of the mattress, taking up the least possible amount of space, did she finally drift off. Her sleep was restless. The darkness behind her closed eyelids swirled with disjointed dreams and images—the train carrying Quint out of her reach; Edna Seavers’s head imposed on Gretel’s sturdy body; Judd’s somber gray eyes and big, scarred hands; winged babies floating over a full moon…