Brazos Bride

BRAZOS BRIDE, Chapter Fourteen

Brazos Bride

Chapter Fourteen

Hope gestured to her housekeeper. "Consuela, will you show our guests to their rooms."

"Con gusta." Consuela gestured toward the stairs. "Will the second floor be all right for the ladies, or would you prefer that I arrange something downstairs?"

Hope considered only a moment. "Perhaps the rooms at the back down here would be best for you, Lizzie and Maggie. Then you won’t have to climb stairs. Consuela will show you, and you must let someone know of anything you need."

Hope rose and walked toward the steps, "Gentlemen, follow me up and I will show you to your rooms. I must lie down now."

Consuela called, "When we heard of your marriage, Señora, we quickly moved your things to the room that was your mama’s."

Hope stumbled and would have fallen but Micah caught her. Sleep in her mother’s room, with Micah only a dressing room away? She dragged herself up a couple of steps then faltered. Could she do it?

She thought she’d planned everything out carefully. How had she overlooked so many things, especially this? Why hadn’t she realized Micah would be so close when uniting herself with this man temporarily? What next?

As if misunderstanding her hesitance as fatigue, Micah swept her into his arms and started upward. "You’re so tired you can hardly stand. Tell me which way to turn."

Weariness overwhelmed her. Although he had misunderstood her faltering, Micah had spoken the truth. "The second door on the left. Zach and Joel—"

"Are grown men and will find themselves rooms." He toed open the door and sat her on her mother’s bed.

Only now it was hers. Her gaze darted around the room. All her toiletries were here, her books, her knick-knacks. It appeared nothing of her mother’s had been removed, so the dressing table and chest were cluttered with the combination. With a smile, she saw that Consuela had remembered to move in her favorite rocking chair and place it by the window.

She slid her hand over the pale green coverlet of the dark cherry four-poster. "It seems odd to use Mama’s room."

He looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "Didn’t your parents sleep together?"

She couldn’t hide her surprise at his question. "Certainly not." Theresa and John slept in the same bed, but she thought it unusual.

"Mine did." His lips formed a firm line and he frowned.

She indicated the dressing room. "Your room is through there, where Papa slept."

"I don’t cotton to sleeping in your father’s bed. Reckon I’d planned on us sharing a room, like at the hotel."

She refused to meet his eyes. Lying in his arms last night had been wonderful. Too wonderful. No way could she trust her heart by repeating that experience.

Never would she toss her independence aside on girlish fancies. She’d spent twenty-four years under a man’s thumb, jumping at his whim and subjected to his moods. It was time she had a chance to rule her own life.

A chance to be free.

When she made no reply, Micah said, "You’ll have to leave your door open, Hope. No way I can protect you otherwise."

Still not looking up, she nodded. "I will. And you can hear me if I call out."

He knelt and removed her shoes. "I’m getting pretty good at this." He turned back the cover then he scooped her up in his arms.