Three Times a Bride Read Online Free Page B

remember what I was sent-uh-mentin’ about.”
    Looking up at him, Rachel smiled in spite of herself. For a low-down, dangerous, heartless scoundrel, he had a way about him. She decided it was partly that lopsided grin of his, so boyishly disarming in contrast to his harshly planed features. Then, of course, there were his eyes, which always seemed to be twinkling.
    “You were just making the observation you might be drunk,” she reminded him.
    “Boy, howdy.” He snapped his fingers again. “On three measly drinks.”
    “You must have lost count and had more than that.”
    “Nope. Never have more’n that.”
    That came as a surprise. Unless the stories she’d heard were totally false, Matt Rafferty frequented the Golden Gooseevery Saturday night and drank all evening, playing cards and cavorting shamelessly. A man of moderation, he definitely wasn’t.
    “Oh, come on, you can tell me. You drink the well dry, right?”
    He shook his head. “Nope. I don’t cotton much to drinkin’.”
    “Since when?” she asked, curious in spite of herself.
    “Since forever. Outa respe—respect for my ma. She didn’t cotton to drunkenness, not in her boys. Claimed liquor ’n’ Irish was a bad mix. I reckon she was right, ’cause whiskey killed my da.”
    “Then why drink at all?”
    He started to laugh. “Now there’s a plan.”
    She couldn’t see what he found so humorous. “I take it you’ve considered that.”
    He held up a finger. “But, as you can see, plans have a way of not always working out.” He reeled to a sudden stop, focused blearily on something ahead of them in the darkness, and said, “I can’t hold the damned things still long enough to get a good count, but they look like too many.”
    She realized they had reached the church and that he was referring to the front steps. Like him, she had to squint to see them, albeit for different reasons. “Too many for what?”
    “To climb.” As if he found that hysterically funny, he began to laugh again. Then, with no warning, he leaned down, thumping his forehead sharply against hers. “Jesus…” He exhaled in a great rush. “I don’t know, honey. I hate to disappoint a lady, but this is one time my good friend Henry may fail to rise to the occasion.”
    Thinking that he might have made arrangements to meet with his friend Henry after leaving the saloon, Rachel glanced worriedly over her shoulder. “Who’s that?”
    “Who’s what?”
    “Henry. Who is he?”
    “Henry is—” He broke off and started to laugh again.When he caught his breath, he said, “Dear God, you are sweet. Honest to goodness, pure as an angel, genuine sweet. It’s been so long, I’d forgotten girls like you exist.”
    Rachel couldn’t see what her disposition had to do with anything. “Thank you,” she said distractedly. “But you didn’t answer my question. Who is Henry? You didn’t mention that he was going to come.”
    His shoulders jerked with mirth again. “He isn’t. That’s the whole damned problem. Ain’t that a hell of a note?”
    Growing impatient with his nonsensical responses, Rachel steered him toward the steps. “We shall do quite well without him, I assure you.”
    “Lord, help me.”
    A chance for revenge beckoning sweetly, she endeavored to help him up the flight of steps. So what if Matt Rafferty seemed kind of nice? She knew he wasn’t, that he couldn’t possibly be. If he were, he wouldn’t have done something so reprehensible to her sister. Why should she show him any mercy when he’d shown Molly none?
    All of a sudden, Matt reeled backward. Taken off guard, Rachel tumbled with him. Luckily, they had scaled only a few levels. Dust mushrooming around them, they landed in an ungainly heap at the bottom of the steps, Rachel’s skirts and petticoats around her waist, Matt’s long legs crisscrossing hers.
    “Damn.” After taking one look at her, he sat up and brushed at her clothing. “I apologize. There seems to be a slight hitch in