Her sister stiffened, but she lifted her hand as if responding to a schoolteacher. “I–I’m Jenny.”
Rebekah hated the way her sister’s voice trembled. Hated that she had to leave her here when Jenny was so apprehensive, but it was better than them both being on the streets, trying to get by on their own. There were few decent jobs for women, and she was determined they wouldn’t end up working in a saloon—or worse.
The man looked a tad bit relieved and slapped his hat back on his head. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He glanced at Rebekah again, his dark eyebrows dipping? “And you are?”
“Oh, my apologies. I’m Jenny’s older sister, Rebekah Grace Evans.”
“Older by only six minutes,” Jenny mumbled her normal response.
Mr. Hart shuffled his feet. “I don’t mean to stare, ma’am, but I didn’t realize Jenny had a twin, nor was I expecting you—so forgive me if I seem caught off guard.” He glanced toward their luggage. “I’d best move your things out of the road.” He trod toward the pile of trunks and satchels.
Mortification marched through Rebekah again as she watched him stride off. She spun toward her sister. “I find it hard to believe you failed to mention you were a twin, but you also omitted the fact that I was accompanying you? Jenny, that’s unconscionable.”
“I was afraid he’d say no if he knew there were two of us coming.”
“But I’m not staying. Only until the wedding.” Rebekah blew out a sigh, tired of having to fix Jenny’s messes. From what her sister had read to her of the few letters Mr. Hart had written, he was in charge of a big ranch and a large family. She had a feeling he didn’t like being unprepared for any reason. It made sense he’d appreciate knowing what he was up against.
She closed her eyes, once more searching for a thread of composure then she turned and moved toward the big man who lifted one of their heavy trunks as easily as if it were a five-pound sack of flour and set it on the boardwalk. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Hart. I’m sure I can find a place in town to stay.” As long as the room was inexpensive—and food didn’t cost extra.
He shook his head. “No need, ma’am. I’ve booked a couple of rooms at the hotel, and once we go home, our house has plenty of space. You’re welcome there.”
His kindness was quite generous and appreciated. She lifted her head, looking straight into Mr. Hart’s deep brown eyes. Lines creased the edges of his eyes, as if he laughed a lot. The sun had darkened his skin to a pleasing bronze. A sudden dryness coated her mouth that she was sure was not related to the dust blowing in the warm breeze. She cleared her throat. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
A gentle smile lifted his lips. “It’s no bother, ma’am. I didn’t plan for two, but I will now that I know you’re here.”
She wasn’t completely sure what he meant. The relentless sun beat down, heating her whole body. Jenny was right that the temperature felt much warmer here in southern Texas. The tiny bonnets that were popular in Missouri did little to shade them from the sun.
“I think I might swoon if we have to stand out here much longer.” Jenny dabbed her face with her handkerchief.
“My apologies. Let’s get you two inside.” Mr. Hart swatted his hand at the pile of baggage. “Which of these are the most important? We can take them now, and I’ll get the trunks later.”
Jenny gasped. “We can’t go off and leave our possessions unattended. Everything I own is in them.”
Rebekah motioned to Jenny to quiet down. Her sister often made a mountain out of a molehill.
“Your belongings will be safe here.” Mr. Hart motioned his hand toward the building behind them. “The people in Hartville are good, decent folk. They won’t bother your things.”
“Well, I suppose it will be all right—if you’re certain.” Jenny looked less than convinced.
“I am.” He nodded, his lips pressed tight together. Mr. Hart gathered their four satchels, two in each hand. “The hotel isn’t far. Just follow me, and I’ll have you out of this heat in a minute or two.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hart. That will be nice.” Rebekah started after him with her sister lagging behind. She glanced over her shoulder and motioned with her head for Jenny to join her. She obliged, but her expression had yet to lose its sour pucker. “Don’t you like him?”
Though Jenny shrugged, Rebekah was sure her sister’s eyes were on her future husband’s back.
“Jen–nyyy. He’s a nice man—and quite good-looking,” she whispered. “Don’t you think?”
Jenny blew out a sigh. “I suppose—in a rugged sort of way.”
“He doesn’t look much different than the cowboys we saw in Missouri.”
“But I wasn’t expected to marry one of them.”