Darby: Bride of Oregon (American Mail-Order Bride 33) by Bella Bowen Page A

kept it in her pocket
just in case the day went well. By the way it was starting, however, she had
half a mind to take it up the hill and bury it in the woods.
    But that was something the old Darby would do, in
a fit of temper.
    She stuck her lip out. She was already missing the
old Darby.
    Jacobs stepped into the morning room with his hat
in his hands and his hair looking even more disheveled than the day before. “Ma’am.
Mr. Beauregard is sorry he couldn’t have breakfast with you this morning.” He
blushed so scarlet she thought his hair might turn red. “He’s had
a...minor...accident, and as soon as he’s well enough to move—”
    “What?” She jumped to her feet as Jacobs reached
for the back of her chair too late. She bit down on her tongue for a second or
two, then assumed her queenly manners again. “I insist you take me to him at
once.”
    Jacobs shook his head. “Aw, no. You don’t want to
see him right now.”
    “I beg your pardon?” She lowered a look on him
that stopped his head from shaking and started it nodding. “I shan’t bother with
the carriage, if you have a horse—”
    “No ma’am.” Jacobs said firmly as he moved
sideways to the doorway. “I’ll have the carriage ready in ten minutes. No need
to rush. He’s not bleedin’ anymore.”
    Bleeding anymore?
    “Is a doctor with him?”
    “No, ma’am. Not exactly.”
    “Jenny, I want you to get any bandages or medical
supplies you might have in the house. And hurry.” Darby hurried upstairs and
collected her sewing supplies, then waited on the front steps with Jenny. The
girl was fighting tears and losing.
    “Don’t worry, young lady,” Darby told her. “I’m
sure he’s twisted an ankle or cut open a finger. Men are notoriously clumsy,
you’ll see.”
    “Aw, no, ma’am. I worry that the Phantom finally
got hold of him.”
    “The Phantom?”
    “Yes, ma’am. For nigh on two years now, the judge
has been trying to bring this Phantom fellow to justice. Sells slaves to the
sea captains. They say he eats the ones he doesn’t sell.” The girl shivered. “Mr.
Beauregard stopped practicing law so’s he could run the scum to ground. I just
hope the scum hasn’t won.”
    Since she’d awakened alone in that large bed,
Darby had wondered if she’d married a coward. But it seems she was wrong. She
only hoped the man would survive long enough to show her everything else she
might have underestimated about him.
    She’d never once imagined her mysterious husband
would actually be interesting. All aspects of survival—food, shelter, clothing—had
consumed her thoughts so completely she’d never once considered that a man
might prove interesting.
    Her father had been interesting, of course. And
her mother. They were also interesting when they were together, like their
characters changed somehow because the other one happened to be in the same
room. Maybe that was what love did to people, changed their characters.
    If Rand Beauregard grew to love her someday, would
it change him? Or would it change her?
    Jacobs insisted that Jenny stay behind. After he helped
Darby into the carriage, he had some dire warnings she was glad the timid young
woman hadn’t been on hand to hear.
    “Ma’am, I would like to give you one more chance
to go inside and wait for the judge to come to you.”
    She shook her head.
    “All right, then. You’ll have to do as you’re
told. Do you understand? You’ll put your husband in much more danger if you ask
questions.”
    “I understand,” she said, even though she didn’t.
She only knew her husband was hurt and that it was her duty to go to him. If
she had to obey orders to be allowed access to him, then so be it.
    Jacobs gave her a dubious glance, then closed the
carriage door.
    This time, she watched every detail of the city as
it passed by her. The town seemed to have risen up between the enormous pines
and found a way to work around them. Large trunks that had to have been fifty
years old rose