The Borrowed Bride

“All right.” Judd sucked in his breath, forcing himself to meet her questioning gaze. “Your mother paid us a visit today. She told us about your baby.”

Hannah reeled as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She caught the corral fence with one hand, feeling slightly ill. She’d wanted to keep the baby a secret for as long as possible. But her mother had shared that secret with the last two people she’d have chosen to tell.

“You don’t have to convince me the baby’s Quint’s,” Judd said. “Seeing the two of you together for so long, I’ve no doubt of that. The question is, what do we do now?”

“We?” Hannah gulped. “Since when did this become your problem, Judd?”

“Since I found out you were carrying my brother’s child—my own flesh and blood.”

Oh, blast, he was going to make her cry. Hannah steeled her emotions. “I’ve written to Quint about the baby,” she said. “I’ve written again and again. Surely, once he gets word, he’ll catch the next boat home.”

“But when will he get word? And how soon will he be able to get back? If he’s still in the Klondike when winter comes, he might not make it out till spring.”

Hannah’s heart sank. “The baby could be born before Quint comes home.”

“Without a proper father and without a legal name.”

A nighthawk swooped through the darkness, moonlight flashing on its white-barred wings. The horse Judd had tied to the fence shifted in the darkness. Hannah gazed up at Quint’s taciturn brother, a man ten years her senior. She’d known him all her life, yet scarcely knew him at all. Surely he hadn’t meant what had just popped into her head.

No, of course not.

“I’m offering to marry you, Hannah,” Judd was talking fast now, pouring out more words than Hannah had ever heard from him at one time. “It wouldn’t be a real marriage, of course. Not in the physical sense. But it would be legal. It would give your child the Seavers name and the right to inherit Quint’s share of the estate one day. And it would hush up the gossip that’s bound to start before long.

“Not entirely. People can count.” Hannah responded from a well of stunned silence.

“They can and they will. But you’d be a Seavers. A married woman. And you’d have me to defend your honor.”

A married woman.

Judd’s wife.

Hannah’s legs had gone rubbery. She gripped the fence rail for support. The last thing she’d expected from tonight’s visit was a proposal.

Judd was waiting, studying her face with fathomless eyes. What had prompted him to make such an outlandish offer? Had her mother begged him to rescue her daughter from shame?

Had he really thought this out?

With effort she found her voice. “What about Quint? What’s to happen when he comes home?”

“I’ve thought it all out. Our family lawyer can draw up divorce papers before the wedding. When Quint comes home, we can sign them, and you’ll be free to marry the father of your child.”

Hannah stared at the ground, where the moonlight had joined their shadows. The next question lay unspoken between them, cold and dark and too dreadful for words. Hannah forced herself to give it voice.

“And if Quint doesn’t come back? What then?”

“That would be up to you. Anytime you wanted your freedom, we could sign the papers and be done with it. Your child would still be a Seavers with the right of inheritance.” Judd exhaled raggedly. “But there’s no need to dwell on that now. Unless we hear differently, we have to assume that Quint’s fine, and that he’ll be coming home.”

“Yes, of course we do.” The night was warm, but Hannah felt a shiver pass through her body. She turned away from Judd and fixed her eyes on the North Star. She often looked that way when she wanted to feel close to Quint. Where was he now? she wondered. Was he gazing at the night sky, just as she was—maybe thinking of her while she entertained a marriage proposal from his brother?

Would marrying Judd be an act of betrayal or an act of sacrifice, for the sake of Quint’s child?

Was she actually thinking of saying yes?

“I can promise you’d be taken care of the way Quint would want,” Judd said. “You’d have your own bedroom and anything you needed in the way of clothes, things for the baby and even gifts for your family. Gretel does the cooking and housework and cares for my mother. That wouldn’t change.”

Hannah’s fingers wadded the fabric of her skirt as his words sank in. The Gustavsons had always been poor, but they’d been happy enough. She’d never minded hard work, nor had she wasted time yearning for finery. The idea of having a servant was as foreign to her as living on the moon. As for the rest…

Something shrank inside Hannah as she imagined passing her days in that silent, gloomy house with the waspish Edna Seavers and her huge, grim mastiff of a housekeeper. She’d assumed that when she and Quint married, they would build a home of their own. But for the sham marriage Judd was proposing, that wouldn’t be practical. And she could hardly stay with her own family—not if she wanted her child to be accepted as a Seavers.

Behind her, Judd waited in silence. Maybe he thought she’d jump at the chance to have a comfortable life, to live in an elegant ranch house, wear store-bought clothes and sit down to meals she didn’t have to prepare. Well, he was wrong. In that great mausoleum of a home she would feel more like a prisoner than a cherished, useful member of the family.

Exasperated, she swung back to face him. “Who came up with this crazy idea, Judd? Did my mother talk you into saving my honor?”

He shook his head. “Nobody talked me into anything. And my reason for coming here tonight has little to do with your honor—or with you as a woman.”

So much for pretty words. Hannah scuffed at a stone, her silence pressing him to continue.

“If Quint doesn’t make it home, that baby you’re carrying will be all we have left of him—and most likely the only grandchild my mother will ever have. I’m looking out for the next generation of our family.”

“But what about you, Judd? Surely you’ll want to find a good woman and start a family of your own before long.”

He looked away from her, his eyes fixed on the jagged silhouette of the mountains. A falling star streaked through the darkness and vanished. “I’m not a fit husband for any woman,” he said. “Chances are I never will be.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s no need for you to understand. If you become my wife, we’ll keep a proper distance like polite friends. My personal demons will be my concern, not yours.”

“I see,” Hannah murmured, though she really didn’t. She was just beginning to realize how little she knew about Judd Seavers.

He exhaled slowly, like a man who’d just set down a heavy weight. “I’m not expecting your answer tonight,” he said. “Take time to think about what I’ve said. Either way, I don’t want to rush you.”

“Thank you.” Hannah moved away from the fence. Thinking too long about Judd’s offer would only make her decision harder. It would be just as well to make up her mind and be done with it. “Come back in the morning,” she said. “I’ll give you my answer then.”

“I’ll come tomorrow night.” He loosed the reins from around the fence rail and eased onto his tall black gelding. The grimace that flashed across his face told Hannah that the war wounds still pained him. “I want to do right by you and my brother and the child. But I won’t push your decision. You need enough time to be sure.”

For the space of a heartbeat he gazed down at her upturned face. Then, without giving her a chance to say more, he swung toward the gate and nudged the horse to a canter.

Hannah stood watching the dark forms of horse and rider blend into night. Only then did she allow her legs to betray her. Like a wounded animal, she sank to the ground. Her fingers splayed over her face. Her body quivered with unspent sobs.

This couldn’t be happening. She was still coming to terms with having a baby, still clinging to the hope that Quint would come home and marry her. Judd’s offer had come from nowhere, slamming her with the force of a lightning bolt and leaving her in a state of shock.

Judd meant well, Hannah reminded herself. His plan was well thought out, covering all possibilities. If Quint came back, she could divorce Judd and marry her true love. If the worst happened, and Quint didn’t return, the child conceived in that impulsive moment would never know the stigma of bastardy. He or she would have the Seavers name, access to a good education and a share of the finest ranch in the county.

On one hand, how could she even think of saying no?

On the other hand, how could she find the courage to say yes?

Judd Seavers was like a black pool with unknown pitfalls lurking beneath its quiet surface. He’d mentioned his personal demons. What did he mean? Could he be an alcoholic, or even an opium addict? Was he capable of harming her or her child? Surely not—but how could she be certain?