“I won’t, but I’d appreciate some help with ’em.”
They made quick work of getting down a small mountain of baggage, then Austin dusted off his hands. Why hadn’t the women exited the stage? Had Jenny taken one look at the town—or him—and changed her mind? But then again, she had no idea what he looked like, and she wouldn’t leave without all of her baggage. He eyed the stack again, hoping that most of them belonged to the other person in the stage. But then his bride had probably brought most of her worldly possessions with her since she was moving to Texas permanently—he hoped.
Fred climbed down and nodded his thanks. He grinned. “You’re in for a surprise, I suspect.” He hustled to the door and reached up, while Austin tried to decipher the driver’s odd comment. A gloved hand joined Fred’s. The first glimpse Austin got of his bride was the top of her dainty hat and a mass of dark blue fabric. The woman stepped down, smoothed her skirts then glanced up. Austin hadn’t believed it when a couple of his brothers had talked about their hearts bucking when they’d first laid eyes on their future bride, but he’d be hanged if his hadn’t done the same thing.
Jenny Evans was beautiful. Her eyes—almost the shade of the bountiful bluebonnets that painted the fields with color each spring—stood out against her fair complexion and dark hair. Her eyes seemed to look clear into his soul. He fumbled for his hat, yanked it off, and crushed it against his chest. His mouth suddenly went as dry as if he were riding drag on the summer trail ride.
God must have been smiling down on him to send such a pretty woman to be his wife.
The woman studied him for a long moment, but then she spun around, facing the stage.
Austin frowned. Was she going to get back on without even talking to him? Yes, she was much younger, but he had told her his age. He couldn’t let her leave without at least talking to her. “Miss Evans, wait!”
He started forward but stopped suddenly. Fred helped another woman exit the stage—a woman wearing a bonnet identical to Jenny’s and a dress the exact same color. She, too, wrestled with her skirts. Jenny adjusted the woman’s bonnet and whispered something to her. The second woman nodded, then Jenny stepped aside, took the other woman’s arm, and moved toward him in unison. Both women looked up at the same time. Austin’s heart thumped. They were exactly alike. A matched pair. Identical twins.
It suddenly dawned on him that in the two letters Jenny had written, she’d said nothing about being a twin. She also hadn’t mentioned bringing her sister with her. Austin glanced past them, wondering if perhaps his Jenny was still on the stage, but Fred had climbed onto the bench and was gathering the reins. Grinning wide, he winked at Austin and mouthed, “Good luck.”
The women moved as one toward him.
It was obvious that Jenny hadn’t told him everything. What else had she omitted mentioning besides her sister?
And which gal was his bride?
Chapter Two
Rebekah watched several different expressions shift across the man’s features. Was he not Stephen Hart? She looked around behind him and over her shoulder but saw no other man focused on them. If he was Jenny’s fiancé, why did he look so confused?
Jenny’s steps slowed, but Rebekah all but dragged her sister toward the man. If he wasn’t Mr. Hart, perhaps he could direct them to the man. She stopped a good six feet from him.
His gaze shifted from her to Jenny and back. Had he never seen identical twins before? That seemed unlikely, but it certainly would explain his perplexing behavior.
But if he were Mr. Hart, why would he look so befuddled? Unless … She leaned toward her sister. “You did mention I was accompanying, didn’t you?”
Jenny visibly swallowed. Then she lifted her chin, flashed a coy grin, and shrugged.
Rebekah’s heart clenched. Jenny didn’t tell him. What if he had no place for her to stay? A surprise like this certainly wasn’t a good way to start off a relationship.
Quickly composing herself, she struggled for a friendly expression. She sure didn’t want the man standing in front of her to think she was upset with him. He stood tall, wearing an air of authority. He hadn’t worn a suit, but his white shirt and dark pants looked new and of a good quality. A thin layer of dust clung to his boots, but the shine from a recent polishing was still there. And this man was handsome, with his dark, assessing eyes and black hair. His shoulders looked wide enough to bear any woman’s problems. If he was Stephen Austin Hart, Jenny was a fortunate woman. A shaft of envy pierced her.
The man smiled, albeit a tad bit wobbly. “Ladies, I’m Austin Hart. I’m sure hoping one of you is Jenny Evans.”