Page 21 of More than Words Can Say

Determined not to cry a second time, Abigail took refuge once again in tackling what needed to be done. “Let’s get to work on my hair.”

Forty-five minutes later, with a coat covering her beautiful dress and enough pins in her hair to hold her tresses steady even in a gale-force wind, Abigail stepped out into the alley behind the bakery with her cake box in hand and her sister at her side.

A masculine throat cleared nearby. Abigail looked sharply to her right and found Reuben Sinclair standing near the bakery’s back wall.

He doffed his hat and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Your carriage awaits, milady.”

A roughhewn buckboard stood in the street at the end of the alley. Tall, sturdy, and built to carry loads of lumber, not brides in fancy gowns. But to Abigail, it couldn’t have looked finer had it been gilded with gold.

She’d been dreading the walk, dreading the chance of being stopped and questioned. A keen observer would note the unusual style of her hair and could easily spy the hem of her dress beneath her coat. Most people would probably be more concerned with their own business than that of a random passerby, but if Sophia Longfellow caught sight of her, Abigail would be sunk. Reuben Sinclair had just removed that possibility.

“How kind of you, sir.” Abigail smiled with genuine delight. “A ride in your carriage sounds lovely.”

The lumberman gave her a sheepish look as he took the cake box from her and offered his arm. “My wife insisted.”

“Your wife is a wise woman,” Rosalind said as the three of them made their way to the buckboard.

“That she is.” Reuben carefully set the cake box in the back, then handed Rosalind up first, allowing Abigail to sit on the outside, where her dress would be less likely to be crushed.

The ride to the Sinclair home took barely five minutes, yet it felt like days. Abigail had trouble gauging their progress, since she kept her gaze downcast to avoid making eye contact with anyone milling about town, and every time she glanced up, she was amazed at how little ground they’d covered. They eventually arrived at their destination, however, and Audrey Sinclair greeted her at the door. She showered Abigail with smiles and compliments as she ushered her into the parlor. At their entrance, the two men seated inside rose to their feet. She knew the older one must be Brother Samuelson, the minister, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from Zach to verify.

His gaze had melded with hers the instant she crossed the threshold, and for a moment, Abigail forgot to breathe. He was dressed in a black suit coat and trousers, a white shirt visible at his neck above a black vest. Whiskers from a day’s growth of beard shadowed his jawline, giving him a rugged appearance.

He didn’t say a word. Just stared at her. Yet his attention didn’t make her feel self-conscious. All she felt was warm.

Of course, the warmth might be due to the fact that she was still wearing her coat.

Her hands moved to the buttons, and her lashes dipped to veil her eyes from his. She worked the first button free, then the second, but a commotion from outside stalled her progress. A loud knocking. Persistent. Pounding.

“Zach!” a muffled voice called. A female voice. “Zach, are you in there?”

A groan echoed from the man across the room, but Abigail was more concerned with who was outside. The woman seemed awfully determined. As if she had some prior claim to Abigail’s groom. A knot twisted in Abigail’s belly, and her hands fell away from her coat. Turning her back on Zach, she stepped into the hall in time to see Audrey Sinclair open the front door.

A beautiful auburn-haired woman thrust her way inside, took one look at the people gathered in their finery, and threw her arms wide. “Stop the wedding!”

CHAPTER

12

Zach stalked out of the parlor and into the hall to confront his sister. This was exactly why he hadn’t wired her until this morning about the wedding. Well, this and the fact that he wasn’t completely sure the ceremony would actually take place. But when Abigail gave no indication at breakfast that she planned to back out, he’d sent the telegram. Evie never would have forgiven him if he’d kept such information to himself, and she’d already forgiven him for more than he deserved, so he wasn’t about to press his luck.

Evie wrote to him every week, keeping him up-to-date on family matters and pestering him about writing more often. He made a point to write once a month, not that he had much to say. His letters rarely contained more than a paragraph or two. Lumber work just wasn’t that riveting, and it wasn’t as if he had a social life to report on. Usually he spent the majority of his letter talking about Reuben and his brood. He guessed that would change once he gained a wife and sister-in-law. Maybe, if he was really lucky, he could convince Abigail to take over the correspondence for him. Females were better at that sort of thing, anyway. ’Course, most females didn’t run a bakery on their own. He probably shouldn’t ask for that favor just yet.

“Quit causin’ a scene, Evie,” he groused as he wove between the spectators to reach his sister. He braced himself for either a hug or a swat, both reactions equally likely to occur. The swat came first.

Evie’s palm bounced off his bicep, her blue eye shooting sparks at him even as her brown eye warmed in welcome. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year, and Zach had to admit that he felt a nearly irresistible urge to wrap her in a bear hug. Not that he would. One Hamilton making a scene was plenty.

“I wouldn’t have been forced to rely on such theatrics if you had given me more than a few hours’ notice that you were getting married. Married, Zach! And I almost missed it.” Her forehead creased, and her gaze darted to the parlor doorway and back, her haunted look piercing his hide. “I didn’t miss it, did I?”

All right. Maybe he should have given her a little extra notice. But he’d told her she didn’t have to come, that it was more of a business partnership than an actual marriage. As if that would matter to Evie—the girl who put family above everything. He should have known his little sister would move heaven and earth to get here in time.

“Nah. You didn’t miss it.”

A smile broke out across her face bright enough to light the entire house. “Good! Because there’s no way I’d let you get married without your family by your side.”

That was when the hug hit. Evie hurled herself at him, forcing him to catch her. It was a trick she’d been using since she was a kid to get him to hold her, since he wasn’t exactly the affectionate sort. Although when he wrapped his arms around her, a warmth infused his chest he hadn’t realized he’d missed.

“Ah, Zach? You gonna introduce us to your company?” Reuben sounded as though he were stifling a laugh. At Zach’s expense, of course.