Page 25 of A Tailor-Made Bride


  “Tessa, it’s not polite to interrupt.”

  The little girl’s face looked properly contrite . . . for all of two seconds. “I’m sorry, but this is important. We don’t want to miss it.”

  No, they didn’t. Hannah surveyed the grounds, searching for Jericho in the crowd of men and boys who were lining up at the start. Her heart longed to be at the race; however, responsible business practices dictated she not rush off and risk offending an important potential client.

  “Oh my. We can’t have you miss the excitement.” Mrs. Paxton’s hand closed over the end of Hannah’s dowel rods, graciously solving her dilemma. “Let me put these away for you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Hannah said.

  “Hurry on, now. You don’t want to miss the start.”

  Hannah gave Tessa’s arm a little shake. “Let’s go.” The girl took off, dragging Hannah behind her. Hoping that Tessa’s enthusiasm would rate as an adequate excuse for her own hurried pace, Hannah did nothing to slow the girl down. The sooner they got there, the better.

  J.T. toed the imaginary starting line, one arm behind Tom’s back as the partners gripped each other’s shoulders for balance. The Harris brothers stood two pairs down, shooting taunting looks J.T.’s way as the judge inspected the bandanna tied around his and Tom’s ankles. Will and Archie would be the only real competition. Most teams consisted of kids or young men with their sweethearts. Fellows typically cajoled their gals into participating just to have an excuse to wrap their arms around them. Such pairings always led to a surplus of silly giggling and quick tumbles.

  Although J.T. had to admit that he’d much rather be holding on to Hannah right now than his stablehand. It might be worth a loss. Then again, recalling how hard she’d pushed when she’d challenged him to try those clubs and rings of hers, she might prove to be the toughest competitor of the lot. He wondered if being in a fashionable dress would slow her down at all. He grinned. Probably not.

  “What’s got you smiling, Tucker?” Will Harris called. “You looking forward to the view of my back as Archie and I breeze across the finish line?”

  J.T. snorted. “The only way I’ll see your back is if you fall flat on your face at the start. Otherwise, Tom and I will be too far ahead to see much of anything except victory.”

  Will raised his chin a notch. “Not this year.”

  The starter stepped into position in front of the racers, and the good-natured ribbing died. A blue bandanna fluttered at the end of his hand.

  Having removed his coat for the event, J.T. relished the breeze that fluttered his shirt sleeves. But he would not be distracted. He targeted the finish line. Tom’s fingers dug into the muscles at his neck. Together they leaned forward, ready for the signal.

  The starter’s arm shot straight up, brandishing that blue kerchief like a flag on a pole. “On your mark!” he shouted. “Get set . . . Go!”

  His arm dropped and the hobbled racers surged onto the course. Several pairs stumbled as soon as they began, but J.T. paid them no mind. He focused on the ground ahead, alert for any dip or hole that could derail his team as they gradually increased their pace to an uneven hop-jog gait.

  Cheers rang out from the sidelines, and for a moment, J.T. wished Hannah hadn’t been off playing with Tessa when the racers were called to the field. It was a trivial fair game, not a true athletic contest, but even so, a man liked to have the support of his woman when competing against other males. How else did one get the chance to impress her? Hearing tales of his prowess after the fact never inspired the same degree of awe as firsthand experience.

  They reached the halfway point, and J.T. glanced to the side. The Harris brothers were running neck-and-neck with them. The crowd’s cheers narrowed to the two front teams. Calls for Tom and J.T. mingled with equal enthusiasm for Will and Archie. But then a different name came through, a name only one person of his acquaintance ever used.

  “Go, Jericho!”

  His head shot up, and he searched the crowd for Hannah’s face. Then his toe struck a rock, nearly sending him and Tom sprawling onto the ground.

  “Watch out, J.T. They’re gonna pass us.”

  Tom’s strength steadied him as he turned his attention back to the race. A new fire blazed in his belly. There was no way he’d let Will Harris beat him if Hannah was watching.

  “Let’s take them on the hill.”

  Tom grunted his agreement.

  The last few yards of the course sloped gently upward. It wasn’t a hill, really. However, if a team tried to take it too fast, the slight rise could throw them off balance. J.T. had always approached it with caution in the past, but today he planned to attack it like a renegade Apache.

  He sped up his metronomic exhalations and their footsteps followed. They pulled a couple steps ahead. Then their balance faltered. They leaned forward, fighting the momentum. They stumbled. The ground rushed up to meet them. With a mighty lunge, they crossed the line and crashed into the earth.

  “Tucker and Packard,” the announcer shouted. “By a nose.”

  Hurrahs erupted from the spectators. J.T. rolled onto his back still tethered to Tom. His chest heaved, his knee ached from where he’d landed on it, but he didn’t care about the pain. He’d won.

  Tom untied the bandanna around their ankles and scrambled to his feet. “We did it, J.T. We did it!”

  “Yep” was all J.T. could manage.

  Will Harris strode over and extended a hand. “You might’ve won, Tucker, but at least Archie and I kept our feet. It was worth coming in second just to see you two tripping all over yourselves like that.”

  J.T. clasped the fellow’s wrist and let him help him to his feet. He chuckled ruefully as he dusted the dirt from his trousers. “If you’ll promise to put on as good a show next year, I’d consider playing second fiddle myself.”

  Will grinned. “No promises, Tuck—”

  Before the man could finish spitting out his words, a beautiful blonde whirlwind blew past him and launched herself at J.T.

  “You won!”

  He caught her around the waist and lifted her off her feet, her excitement revitalizing his tired body. She squealed and her smile nearly obliterated the sun as she threw her head back and exulted in the moment, uncaring that others looked on with avid curiosity.

  Man, how he loved this woman.

  “If I had known this was the prize, I would have fallen on my face to win, too.” Will’s dry comment brought a blush to Hannah’s cheeks, and she straightened her bent legs back toward the ground. J.T. set her down but kept his hand at her waist, staking a claim for all to see.

  “Does that mean I get a turn holding her?” Tom asked, and for the first time, J.T. saw him as a man instead of a kid. It was a bit unnerving. Thankfully, Will interrupted.

  “I don’t think Tucker wants to share, Tom.” The men standing around snickered.

  “Well, that don’t seem fair. I won, too.”

  “Yes, you did.” Hannah stepped away from J.T.’s hold, and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from grabbing her back. She walked over to Tom and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Congratulations, Tom.”

  A silly grin spread across his face. “I gotta go tell Ma!” He lumbered off, once again fully the kid his underdeveloped mind dictated that he be.

  “So what’s the prize for second?” Will asked, looking more at J.T. than Hannah.

  J.T. glared at his audacious question, which only made Will grin more. Taking Hannah’s hand, J.T. started leading her away. “Sorry, fellas. You’ll have to find your own prize. This one’s mine.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Hannah followed Jericho, eager to escape the men’s teasing. Once they separated themselves from the group, the Harris brothers faded from her mind and she became consumed by the way Jericho’s warm hand enveloped hers. Strong, capable, protective. And at that moment, connected. To her.

  Jericho slowed his pace to a stroll. His callused palm rubbed against her smoother skin, creating a del
icious friction that tingled up her arm. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and angled his face toward her, curling his lips in the hint of a smile. Hannah’s heart thumped heavy and hard. Conscious of the picnic activity around them, she shied away from the heat of his gaze and focused instead on the dips and ruts of the ground. But she had never been more aware of the man at her side.

  “I’m sorry I caused such a scene back there,” she said, needing to do something to diffuse her growing restlessness. “I didn’t intend to throw myself at you, I promise. It just sort of . . . happened.”

  Jericho tugged her to a halt. “Darlin’, you can throw yourself into my arms anytime you like.” His tawny eyes shone with humor . . . and something deeper that made her breath quiver. “I promise I’ll always catch you.” The soft, husky tone of his voice vibrated through her and left her wanting to hide away with him somewhere and explore the meaning behind his words. But she couldn’t. She had a kite to fly and children to entertain.

  “We should get back,” she said, dipping her chin.

  Jericho released her hand and cleared his throat. “Tom showed me a good place for kite flying. It’s upriver a little ways but easy to get to.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the wagon.

  Grateful for the ordinary conversation, she tried to subdue her bucking emotions. “That sounds lovely. I’m sure the children will be pleased.”

  She and Jericho lapsed into silence as they walked across the glen. Hannah glanced his way and caught him staring, the look in his eyes hinting at things unsaid. Her pulse flittered. Would he finish the conversation he had started earlier that day, before Tom had interrupted them?

  Hannah held her breath, aching with the need for him to declare his feelings. His warm regard revealed his attraction, and his possessiveness had been evident as he staked his claim in front of the Harris brothers. Yet she longed for the words, for the assurance that she had, indeed, penetrated his heart as he had penetrated hers. Had Jericho grown to care enough for her that he would be willing to set aside his past hurts and tie himself to a dressmaker for the rest of his days? She stole another peek at him, her chest tight with hope. But he looked to the ground without speaking, and her breath leaked out in disappointment.

  Grant me patience, Lord. You have promised that things work together for good for those that love you, and whether that good entails a life with Jericho or not, I will trust in your faithfulness. She tried to stop there, but a desire tugged on her soul that wouldn’t be denied. She couldn’t let the prayer go without at least presenting the request that burned within her. I love him, Lord. I love him with all my heart. Please grant me a future with this man. Please.

  With a quiet sigh, Hannah released her worry and welcomed the lightness that followed. The sun glowed in the sky, a cool breeze tickled her cheeks, and children’s laughter filled the air. It was a beautiful day, a day made for rejoicing. She wouldn’t ruin it with unproductive frets.

  As Jericho steered her toward their picnic spot, Tessa spotted the children and grabbed the kite from where it had been propped against the tree. She hopped up and down on her toes and waved at them to hurry.

  Hannah’s feet slowed. “Oh no.”

  Jericho turned to her. “What?”

  “I have no idea how to choose who goes first. They’ve all been so good. Any suggestions?”

  The question hung between them for a split second, as if Jericho couldn’t quite believe she was asking him for advice, but in a flash, the glimmer of surprise on his face disappeared beneath his customary confidence. She even detected a swagger in his step as he urged her forward.

  “I think I can come up with something that will work.”

  And he did. A game of short straws, or toothpicks in this case, determined the order. Ike volunteered to help Cordelia pack up the leftover food and supplies, which allowed Louisa to join the kite-flying expedition. Mother and children ran ahead, but Jericho stalled, taking extra time to fold his coat into a lopsided square and lay it on the blanket.

  An exasperated Cordelia shot Hannah a pleading look. Hannah deciphered the hint and dragged Jericho away. As they walked, he glanced over his shoulder more than once and grumbled about the folly of leaving his sister alone with Ike when he couldn’t keep an eye on them.

  Hannah gave him a little swat on the arm. “Leave them be, Jericho. Half the town will be chaperoning them while you’re gone. Besides, I think you can trust Ike not to take advantage of your sister,” she said. “Just as I trust you.”

  His lips thinned, but he gave a firm nod. “You’re right.”

  They lengthened their stride to catch up to the James family. As they closed the gap, however, Jericho bent close one more time. “I’m still gonna glare and growl at him, though, to keep him on the straight and narrow until he puts a ring on Delia’s finger. Maybe even after.”

  Hannah smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  The wind proved perfect for kite flying. Each child took a turn holding the string, but young Mollie had trouble keeping the purple diamond aloft. After the third crash, Hannah took charge. Running the length of the clearing with the James children chasing after her, she lofted the kite into the air and sent it soaring. Dangerously out of breath, she handed the spool to Mollie and motioned for Tessa to give her sister a hand while she braced her arm against a tree for support. A wave of dizziness assailed her as her chest heaved.

  “You should’ve asked me to do the running,” a low voice grumbled at her side. “You’re about to pass out.”

  “I . . . am . . . not.” Somehow she managed to spit out the words between gasps.

  Jericho took her arm, but she pulled away, mortified by her condition. She should have been able to run twice that distance without getting winded. Of course, she didn’t usually exercise while wearing a corset and twenty pounds of fashionable garb.

  “Stubborn woman.” Jericho glowered. “Once in a while it’d be nice if you actually admitted that you need my help.” He left her standing at the base of that tree with a queasy feeling in her stomach.

  She’d hurt him. It’d been there in his eyes. He thought she didn’t need him, but nothing could be further from the truth. She needed him so much, she ached with it. But how was he to know that?

  Slowly, Hannah’s lungs regained a calm rhythm and her mind cleared. She hated appearing weak. All the pitying glances she’d endured after her swimming accident as a child were enough to last a lifetime. When her mother had brought home Dr. Lewis’s book and started her on his calisthenic regimen, Hannah had vowed to regain her strength no matter the cost. And she had. Never quitting once, not even when her lungs burned as if she had breathed in a thousand tiny embers or when muscle cramps woke her from a sound sleep, sending teary rivulets down her cheeks as she bit on her pillow to contain her cries. She took pride in her hard-won physical strength. Yet that pride had just pushed the man she loved away.

  Jericho was right. She was stubborn. Foolish, too.

  Determined to rejoin the group and find a way to privately apologize to Jericho, Hannah let go of the tree and stepped forward . . . directly into a prairie dog hole. Her heel caught, her ankle twisted, and she stumbled sideways into the prickly pear cactus plant that she’d been careful to avoid earlier. A pair of pointed spines pierced her skirt and inner layers to stab the tender flesh at the back of her thigh. With a yelp, she jumped forward, only to hear an ominous ripping noise from behind.

  Hannah closed her eyes and moaned. Why did it have to be her new dress? Her right ankle throbbed, her thigh stung, and now her skirt was caught on a cactus. The Lord must’ve decided to help her get rid of that troublesome pride.

  “Miss Hannah, come see!” Mollie called from a few yards away. “I’m flying it all by myself.”

  “You’re doing great, sweetheart. I’ll be there in just a minute.” She waved to the happy gathering, but when Jericho turned to look at her, her hand fell back to her side. “Mr. Tucker? Might I p
revail upon you for some assistance?”

  He stared at her for what felt like ages without taking a single step in her direction. Then, finally, he trudged across the field, the suspicion lighting his eyes becoming less deniable the closer he came.

  Jericho halted a couple feet away and questioned her with a raised eyebrow. Hannah swallowed. Her pride didn’t go down easily.

  CHAPTER 32

  J.T. crossed his arms over his chest and waited. She better not be patronizing me. Just because he wanted her to admit that she needed help once in a while didn’t mean he would stand for her manufacturing some ridiculous predicament in a half-baked attempt to placate him.

  A heavy gust of wind billowed across them and Hannah teetered. She shifted her weight to compensate and winced.

  He unlaced his arms and took a step forward. “You hurt?”

  “Not badly.” She tried to smile, but her lips only curved on one side. “My main problem is that I’m stuck to a cactus.”

  “Stuck to a—” A chortle escaped, obliterating the rest of his sentence. Reining in his laughter, he cupped her shoulders and pulled her forward a bit to judge the extent of the snare. Sure enough, she was stuck. One of the pleats that used to drape so delicately along the back of her skirt now listed gracelessly to the side, gouged by a wicked-looking spine. Several other spines had snagged the wine-colored fabric closer to the ground, as well.

  “How’d you manage to get tangled up with a cactus?” J.T. crouched beside her and started extricating her from the prickly plant.

  “Well, believe it or not, I was on my way to apologize to you when a prairie-dog hole jumped up and grabbed my shoe heel.”

  Her turn of phrase made him smile. But the story explained her wince. Probably sprained her ankle. He tugged the last piece of material free. “Shouldn’t a seamstress know enough to avoid the sharp end of needles?”