The Banker's Wife by Tina Susedik

Author:Tina Susedik
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Darlings of Deadwood, Deadwood South Dakota, 1879 Deadwood Fire, Romance, Historical Romance, The Banker's Wife, Historical Western Romance
Publisher: Maple Lane Publishing
Published: 2022-02-17T00:00:00+00:00

It was as if time hadn’t moved one second. Here he was hiding in the bushes again, watching a girl. Only this time he knew who she was, how she felt in his arms, and what her lips tasted like. Why had she come back to the farm? As far as he knew, she hadn’t been back since that fateful Christmas dance when his heart had broken in pieces, never to be repaired. And why had she come to this specific spot? Hoping to see him? If she was, she’d be disappointed. A married woman didn’t meet an unmarried man.

Oh, but how he wanted to see her face. Touch her soft skin. Kiss her lips. Or at least find out how life had been for her the past five years. Had they been as depressing as his? At the ripe old age of twenty-four, his parents were pestering him to find a girl, marry, and give them a passel of grandchildren. He wished he could, but the available girls in the neighborhood or within a ten-mile radius didn’t pique his interest in any way, while simply seeing Bertie sent his heart rate spiking so high, he thought he’d pass out.

A sniffle came from Bertie’s direction. Was she crying? Was she remembering how they’d met? Was she wondering if she would have been happy if she had said no to that guy? Not that her mother had given her a choice. Had the stricken look on Bertie’s pale face meant she hadn’t wanted to marry the guy like she’d tried to tell him?

Heck, they had just been talking about a life together, or anyway, he’d been thinking about it when the moron showed up and proposed in front of a hundred people. How could she have said no? For the past five years, as he tried to fall asleep in his lonely bed, he thought of the many ways he could have stopped her. Punched what’s-his-name in his over-large nose. Stand in front of him and profess his love for Bertie and tell him he couldn’t have her. Grab her by the hand and run off with her until they found a preacher to marry them. Anything to stop the proceedings.

He’d even contemplated traveling to Saint Paul and showing up at her house. Knowing how her mother felt about farm boys, he certainly would have had the door slammed in his face. He would have climbed the rose trellis, if she had one, to her room and whisked her away in the dark of night. All dreams of a foolish, lovesick man.

Then he’d toss and turn worrying about how her husband was treating her. Did she have a big house? Servants? A personal maid? Did they have children? Did he love her? But the biggest question was whether or not she was happy. Even though he was broken and vowed to never love another woman, he prayed nightly for her happiness.

Bertie picked up a twig, broke it into pieces, and tossed them into the creek.

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