Page 11 of Conveniently Wed
Everyone around her froze.
The sheriff, who’d been standing silently nearby while the judge questioned her, now spoke up. “Do you know Jonas?”
“No—that is to say, someone in the last town said a Mr. Jonas White might take us in.”
It wasn’t an outright lie. But the comment had come from a man in a fine suit and had been disparaging. More to the effect of, “That Jonas White will take in any kind of riffraff.”
Edgar’s head came up slowly, the brim of his hat hiding his eyes until the last possible moment, when they locked on her.
“Boys?” the sheriff asked.
Fran knew her surprise showed on her face. All of them were somehow related to this Jonas?
“None of these boys told you their surname? They all belong to Jonas White. They are his sons.”
“My pa’s out of town.” Edgar looked uncomfortable, like he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was. “So I’m afraid he can’t help you. Sorry.”
But he didn’t look sorry. He looked relieved.
“All she needs is a place to stay,” the fourth brother said, the one whose name she hadn’t caught. He looked so totally different than the other three that it was a wonder they were related.
“She can’t stay on a ranch with a bunch of bachelors,” Edgar argued.
“She could if she was married to one of them.” Seb’s simple sentence changed the tone of the entire conversation. Edgar’s gaze landed on hers and something, some connection rose between them, silent but clear.
His face above his beard reddened. She didn’t think it was embarrassment turning his skin that shade of pink.
For the briefest moment, Fran considered it. Considered that the burly cowboy would certainly be able to protect her and Emma if Mr. Underhill was able to track them this far. Considered what it might be like to lean on someone like him, someone who could obviously handle the difficulties life threw at him.
Until he spoke.
“No,” the cowboy said in a voice that rang with finality.
“I’ll take her in.” Another male voice joined the hubbub that had ensued in their little group since Fran Morris had uttered the name “Jonas White,” this one coming from the shadows of the alley beside the jail.
A man with the look of a gambler, in a fancy black vest and trousers, stepped into their circle of conversation. John Graves.
Edgar had seen him around town, knew he owned one of the saloons, but he wasn’t acquainted with the man on a personal level.
“I’ve got a room she can board in, and I`ve got work. I’ll even take the sister, too.”
“She don’t wanna be no saloon girl,” Matty protested.
Fran recoiled with a little gasp. She took a half-step in front of her sister. Maybe protecting her from the man’s calculating gaze.
“It wouldn’t appear she has any other choice,” Graves said coolly.
“That’s no life for a lady,” Ricky broke in.
His eyes met Edgar’s, and Edgar saw the shadows of a life that the other man rarely spoke of—his childhood. Ricky knew from personal experience it wasn’t any kind of life for a woman, liar or not. And Edgar believed his brother.
“I’ll marry her.”
Seb.
Had everyone around him gone crazy?
“You’re not marrying her,” he told his brother in no uncertain terms.
