The Stranger's Secrets Page 3

  He turned to look at her and she was surprised to see he had the most lovely green eyes, nearly the shade of the rich grass that grew along the bank of the river behind the Spalding Plantation house. Or had, anyway. His chocolate brown hair was cut short in a nice cut that accentuated his strong jaw.

  Dang, the man was attractive.

  Whitman looked confused as he met her gaze. The moment seemed to stretch on as they stared at each other. Of course, the fool had to open his mouth and ruin her good mood.

  “Melissa?”

  Sarah almost reached for the cane to conk him when Mavis tutted at her.

  “He’s obviously not quite awake yet.” Mavis nodded her steel gray–topped head. “Mr. Kendrick, this is Sarah, not Melissa.”

  “I think he’s already aware of that, Mavis.” Sarah settled back into her corner and watched the play of emotions on the man’s face.

  He had a shadow of whiskers already, and it wasn’t even noon. Obviously he had to shave twice a day or risk giving whoever Melissa was the whisker burn of her life. Not that she cared who the woman was, but Jesus, he didn’t have to call her by that name. It annoyed her more than she wanted to admit.

  “Melissa is my intended bride. I’m to meet her in Kansas City.” Whitman ran a hand down his face, the whiskers scraping against his skin. “I was dreaming about her.”

  Sarah raised one brow. “I’ll bet you were.”

  “Now you just stop it. You hired me to come along on this trip but I won’t put up with your shenanigans. You’re not an unruly girl anymore. You’re a spinster and, as such, have a duty to behave properly.” Mavis peered out the window as if she hadn’t just ripped into Sarah without mercy. “Oh look, another passenger is getting on the train.”

  Sarah swallowed the anger, and the hurt, from the older woman’s comments. It was disconcerting to have her shortcomings paraded in front of a stranger, a Yankee at that. The most exciting day of her life was turning into a miserable pile of pig shit in front of her eyes.

  With a sigh, she glanced out the window at the town they’d stopped in. It was a small depot with an almost deserted platform. The only person standing there was an older man with a bowler hat and a crooked polka-dot bow tie.

  The porter went out and helped him as he walked ever so slowly to the train steps. With Sarah’s luck, the man would probably have a ticket for their compartment too.

  Oh boy. Such joy.

  “It’s all right, you know.”

  Whitman’s voice was right next to her ear, nearly a whisper. Sarah almost started, but years of teaching herself to be as still as death allowed her to control her reaction. She turned to find herself six inches from that green gaze and the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man.

  Whitman had a crook in his nose. No doubt it had been broken. There was a scar bisecting his right eyebrow and he’d obviously nicked himself shaving, because there was a small cut on his chin. He was definitely all man, and damn he smelled good.

  Sarah pulled hard on the reins of her shocking arousal. No way in hell she should be sexually interested in Whitman Kendrick. For one thing, he was from the North, and for another, he was getting married. She’d do best to keep her appetite for big men in check.

  “What’s all right?” She frowned at him.

  “Miss Ledbetter was pretty rude right there. I wouldn’t pay her any mind.” He smiled and Sarah’s breath caught. Whitman was not just handsome, he was devastatingly beautiful.

  Oh, hell.

  Whitman saw confusion race across her gaze and wondered what she was thinking. He had been trying to be polite to her and she acted as if he’d stood on his head and sang “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

  Miss Sarah Spalding was already confusing the hell out of him. He’d do best to keep to himself for however long she was going to be on the train.

  After the older man finally made it on the train and settled next to Miss Ledbetter, it gave Whit the opportunity to open a book and avoid conversation.

  As Mr. Abernathy settled in, the introductions were made and then Whit surreptitiously pulled a book from his traveling bag. He didn’t care what book, as long as he had something to read. Strangely enough, Sarah seemed to eye his book with interest.

  The day passed, if not quickly, at least the sunset arrived without any more drama. Whit was grateful for the reprieve. The trip out to meet and marry his future wife already had him on edge. Most folks would’ve thought him crazy to marry someone he’d never met, but it was the very reason he finally decided to give up his bachelor status.

  The women in his life had been few and far between. With no charm or finesse to speak of, Whit decided a mail-order bride was his best choice.

  In two weeks he’d be married and free to start the rest of his life on a newly purchased farm. He just had to get through the trip out there.

  When the train stopped for the evening, everyone gathered his or her belongings to disembark until the morning. Miss Ledbetter never stopped talking as she picked up her traveling case and left arm in arm with her new boon companion Mr. Abernathy.

  As Whit put his book in his bag, he glanced at Sarah. She pulled one bag from beneath the seat and put it up across from her. When she looked around, she cursed under her breath. He wondered exactly what the relationship was between the two women. Obviously Miss Ledbetter wasn’t concerned about Sarah.

  “Thanks, Mavis,” she muttered. After noticing Whit watching her, she frowned fiercely. “Something I can help you with, Mr. Kendrick?”

  “Can I help you get to the hotel?” The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about what he was doing.

  Surprise flashed across her face. “No, thank you.”

  She certainly didn’t mince words. Reminded him a bit of his mother, strangely enough.

  Whit watched her struggle with the second bag under the seat, which was apparently much heavier than the first. No matter what she said, he wasn’t going to allow a woman to step on his chivalrous duty.

  He took the bag from her and stood waiting while she glared at him.

  “That’s my property, Mr. Kendrick.”

  “I realize that. However, I am a gentleman, so just accept my help.” He wondered how she’d even gotten the bag out from under the seat; it weighed at least twenty pounds. “What’s in here anyway?”

  “My belongings. Now please give it back.” She reached for the bag, but he stepped backward toward the door.

  “You’ll just have to follow me to the hotel to get it back.” With that he turned and stepped off the train. He hoped like hell he wasn’t pushing her far enough to call the law. Jesus, he just wanted to help the prickly woman.

  Whit waited two full minutes before he peeked back in through the window. His stomach fell to his knees when he saw Sarah struggling to stand with a cane in her hand.

  A cane.

  He’d had no idea she was crippled. No wonder she had a companion traveling with her, one who didn’t apparently care enough about her, unfortunately. Whit knew Sarah wouldn’t accept charity and certainly not pity. That was a proud, stubborn woman right there. He decided to try a different method.

  He poked his head in the open door. “Hurry up, would you? What’s in here, rocks?”

  She had finally gotten the other bag on her arm and was straightening up. Her face was flushed, and her eyes, oh those silver eyes, flashed at him like fire. He felt an unexpected jolt of awareness zip through him.

  Whit shouldn’t be surprised but he was. He shouldn’t even be remotely attracted to her, yet apparently he was, judging by his body’s reaction.

  Damn.

  “No, they’re books, if you must know. If you damage them, you’ll be paying for them.” She’d obviously been used to giving orders and being in charge. It definitely didn’t sit well with Whit, but hell, she was just a stranger on a train.

  It didn’t matter a bit.

  Sarah was embarrassed—something that didn’t happen often. Mr. Kendrick had caught her at h
er worst struggling with her damaged leg and the damn cane. No matter how long or hard she fought against it, Sarah needed help with tasks others took for granted. Such as carrying her own luggage.

  She should’ve thanked him, but the words got stuck in her throat. Nothing about this trip was easy, starting with relying on others, strangers or acquaintances, to assist her. At home, one of the girls or Lorenzo would’ve helped without asking. A painful reminder that Sarah was no longer among friends.

  The first thing she should do is fire Mavis. The woman was not only self-righteous, she was incompetent as a companion. She’d left Sarah alone to struggle with the bags. However, the thought of not having even a remotely familiar person to help her made Sarah break out in a cold sweat. She’d have to rely on people like Whitman Kendrick, who was currently tapping his foot as he waited by the door.

  At least he hadn’t treated her like a cripple.

  “I’m hungry, Miss Spalding. If we don’t get to the hotel dining room, we might miss out on the evening meal.” He checked the watch in his vest pocket before shooting her an impatient glance.

  For some odd reason, his behavior pleased her. It gave her something to focus on other than the knot in her stomach or the ache in her leg.

  “I’m working on it, Kendrick.” She walked excruciatingly slowly at first until the stiffness in her right leg started to work itself out. It was always worst when she had been sitting too long. One thing she definitely hadn’t looked forward to while traveling across the country by train.

  By the time they made it off the train, Whit had taken her other bag and her arm. Sarah really ought to protest or at least thank him, but she kept quiet and just accepted his assistance. He didn’t seem to mind, and after all, she hadn’t asked him.

  “I assume you’re continuing on the train tomorrow?” Whit’s voice broke the silence.

  “Yes. All the way to Denver.” She tried to ignore the clipped Yankee tone, but it was damn hard. His speech was different from that of the man in her nightmares, but it was close enough to make her uncomfortable.

  “Then I’ll meet you at your door at six and we can walk to the train together.” He opened the door to the rather shabby hotel and gestured for her to enter.

  “I do have my own plans you know. Perhaps I was going to ask someone at the hotel to help me.” She actually appreciated the offer to walk her to the train. Who knew where Mavis would be, and the porters wouldn’t carry her bags to or from the hotel.

  Whit raised one brow. “Considering you’re probably going to fire Miss Ledbetter, I know I would probably do the same. However, since I’m going to Kansas City, I can be your new traveling companion.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to protest but closed it almost as fast. He was right and she knew it. Most men would’ve either taken pity on her or treated her as if she was a nuisance. Whit treated her as if she was just another person, albeit one who needed help.

  “Fine, but don’t think you’re entitled to any special rewards from me. We’re just two strangers on a train, nothing more.” She made her way into the hotel and to the desk, feeling the burn of his gaze on her back. Perhaps he’d change his mind. Sarah would just have to find a way alone, as she always had.

  After she checked in, Sarah walked to the steps and looked all the way up. She hated stairs, the main reason she’d turned the sitting room into her bedroom back home. Nothing showed her inability to function as a normal woman more than a set of stairs. No help for it, she’d just have to do what she needed to do.

  Sarah made it to the first step before the key was plucked from her hand. She glanced at Whitman, who was currently grabbing the bag from her.

  “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Before she could protest, he was bounding up the steps two at a time with both of her bags and his own. This gave Sarah an unobstructed view of his behind. With a start, she realized it was a very nice, well-shaped and muscular behind. The view was spectacular and she watched until he was out of sight.

  Sarah didn’t want to be physically attracted to Whitman. She’d chosen her bed companions very carefully. A dalliance with a Yankee was simply out of the question, particularly when she knew she’d be in the train compartment with him until they reached Kansas City.

  No, Sarah would just have to squelch any impulses and maintain control. That was her way, after all.

  The dining room was nearly bursting at the seams. There was only one unoccupied table by the time Sarah and Whitman arrived to eat. Unfortunately, it was in a corner and made for two.

  “Told you to hurry,” Whitman grumbled under his breath.

  Sarah couldn’t stop a very unladylike snort, again. “Next time I’ll run up the stairs and you stand at the bottom then.”

  He didn’t respond, but she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, as if he was holding in a laugh. Perhaps the serious Yankee did have a sense of humor after all.

  When they sat down, Sarah realized it was the first time they were face-to-face. On the train and even walking to the hotel, they’d been beside each other. Facing Whitman was an entirely different experience.

  He wasn’t classically handsome, but damn, he was exactly the kind of man Sarah was attracted to. His face was angular, the late-day whiskers only added to his appeal, his nose was slightly crooked, and a few scars were scattered here and there as if he’d been wounded by small pieces of something.

  But it was his eyes that captured her attention. Deep, green, and framed by those long eyelashes, Whitman had the sexiest gaze she’d ever seen. Fortunately or unfortunately, she felt a tug of sensual awareness just looking at the tousled chocolate locks above those eyes.

  Hell and crackers.

  He frowned. “Why are you scowling at me?”

  “I’m not scowling.” She fiddled with the fork and knife on the table while hoping the missing waitress would appear to save her from the awkward situation.

  Damn Mavis Ledbetter. The woman was over by the window with that same gentleman, completely ignoring the fact she’d been paid to take care of Sarah. Whit had been right—she was going to fire Mavis and leave her in whatever town this was.

  “She looks to be a spinster.” Whit followed Sarah’s gaze. “Looks as if she hasn’t given up the quest for a husband, though.”

  “She spent so much time declaring she was a spinster, she kept most men away from her.” Sarah frowned at Mavis. “Nobody in town wanted anything to do with her because of her reputation.”

  “You’re from the same town then?”

  His question was one anyone in polite company would ask, but Sarah found herself unwilling to answer any personal questions. So she decided to insult him to keep him disliking her. “You’re nosy.”

  “You’re rude.”

  “You’re pushy.”

  He barked a laugh. “And you’re refreshingly honest.”

  Sarah found herself holding back a chuckle. What was it about this annoying Yankee that set her on her head? Aside from being handsome, there wasn’t anything else remarkable about him. She needed to figure out his appeal so she could combat it and keep her distance, at least as much as she could, considering they were going to be stuck in a train compartment together for fifteen hundred miles.

  “Then you won’t mind if I continue being honest.”

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

  Why in the hell did that make Sarah’s heart thump like a bass drum? Back home, when she ate a meal, it was with her friends, a group where everyone chatted and relaxed. Sitting with Whit made her feel jumpy and awkward—a condition Sarah was definitely not used to.

  “You make me uncomfortable,” she blurted.

  His eyebrows went up. “I do?”

  Now that she’d gone down that path, she had to finish her thought. “I’m sure you’ve heard the song before, Mr. Kendrick, but Yankees aren’t high on my list of favorite folks, much less one I have to rely on. It’s going to take some time for me to, ah, adjust, so if you can, be p
atient with me.”

  Whit nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  She didn’t want to demand anything from the man. After all, there was no reason for him to help her. His actions told her more than anything that he was a gentleman. “When life kicks you once, you get back up and move on. When life kicks you a dozen times, you’re less willing to forgive and trust.” That was as far as she planned on going with that train of thought. He seemed like a sharp guy and could likely understand why she felt uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t give you any cause to kick me back. I promise.” The sincerity in his gaze made her want to believe him.

  Ridiculous, of course. Why should she trust a stranger? She had to rely on him to be her companion, however that would turn out. Yet expecting him to carry her bags was a far cry from trusting him with her life. Sarah could take care of herself, for the most part anyway, and she regretted the fact she couldn’t do it all the time.

  “Good, because I bite when I kick.” She fought back a grin.

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He smiled at the waitress as she approached the table.

  The young blond thing sparkled like a new penny when she caught sight of Whitman. Sarah wanted to trip her with the cane.

  “Good evening, sir. Can I fetch you something to drink? Or an order of meatloaf? It’s the best in the county.” The young woman smiled while her face flushed.

  Sarah harrumphed at the obvious tactics the girl used. “I’d like some of that meatloaf and hot coffee.”

  The girl looked surprised to see Sarah sitting there.

  “I’m sure Mr. Kendrick here will have the same thing.” Sarah shot Whitman a challenging look, daring him to contradict her.

  “Meatloaf and coffee would be lovely. Thank you, miss.” He graced the girl with another smile, sending her scurrying to the kitchen.

  At least the food would arrive quickly considering the girl was already enamored of Whitman.

  “Are you always this honest?” Whit picked up the spoon in front of him.