The Bride Who Stole His Heart Page 3

  “Amy!”

  But Amy was already out the door. She didn’t want Wootton escorting her back, walking her home when all she wanted to do was run from him.

  This had been such a bad idea. Why did she ever come to San Francisco? The whole thing had been a disaster.

  5

  Philip had sat through his own meal, barely touching it as he glowered at Amy and Wootton nearby. Wootton was certainly turning on the charm but what did reach Philip’s ears didn’t sound impressive. It didn’t seem to impress Amy, either, and Philip could see her emotional withdrawing, picking at her food and looking like she would rather be anywhere but with him.

  What had Gareth Stanier been thinking? Philip thought the young man had a better judgment of people than that? Or had Wootton charmed Gareth over to the point where he was considered a good match? That was more than likely. Philip was going to have a few words with Gareth, if Mary didn’t get there first. She didn’t want her matchmaking jeopardized because her husband messed it up.

  Philip watched as Amy stood abruptly, Wootton barely standing as she left but calling after her loud enough that everyone looked around to watch them. Philip sighed and finished his beer. He wasn’t involved with the dinner meeting and he was embarrassed on Amy’s behalf. It was a disaster.

  Standing and striding out as if he was simply leaving, Philip quickened his pace and found Amy in the next street on the way back to the boarding house. She had slowed to a stop, her back to him as Philip approached. Her shoulders were hunched over and shaking. Then he heard her sobbing.

  That just cracked his heart open.

  Philip reached her and touched her shoulder.

  “Amy?”

  Amy gasped and spun around. Then she let out a strangled sob of relief and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Philip, thank God! I thought it was Wootton following me.”

  Philip had frozen. This was the first time Amy had touched him like this. They had barely touched hands, never mind an embrace. She was a lot shorter than him, causing him to almost bend over, but Philip wasn’t complaining as she sank against him.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Philip got over his shock and put his arms around Amy. She was still shaking and he wished he could make it stop.

  “Wootton’s still back at the restaurant finishing off the big plate of food he was given.”

  “I figured he would be.” Amy drew back but didn’t pull out of his arms. “He seemed more interested in his food and his own voice than me.”

  “It hasn’t impressed women before you, either.”

  Amy grunted. She briefly closed her eyes and slapped Philip’s chest.

  “What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have agreed to this. This is an absolute disaster.”

  She rested her head against his chest. Philip’s arms tightened around her. He wasn’t about to let her go, not now. And there was no chance of him walking away.

  “Would you like me to walk you back?” he asked.

  “If you don’t mind?” Amy looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “I just want to go home.”

  Philip couldn’t argue with that. Realizing that he was still holding onto her, he let her go abruptly and stepped back, clearing his throat as he moved to a respectable distance.

  Amy blinked, looking a little confused. Then she gathered herself and started walking toward the boarding house.

  Philip fell into step beside her, aware of how cold his arms were feeling now that Amy wasn’t there.

  Amy huffed and kicked at the dust, stones skittered across the ground.

  “I should have never come to San Francisco,” she declared.

  The declaration caused Philip to miss a step. He caught himself and stared at her.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s been nothing but one mess after another.” Amy kicked at the dust again with a scowl. “That’s the fifth time I’ve been to dinner with someone Mary or Gareth has matched me up with and I couldn’t find myself to feel attracted to any of them... at all.”

  “You’ve been matched to five men?”

  Philip was stunned. He had not heard about this at all. Amy’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “You never said anything.”

  “I wasn’t going to moan to you about them, was I?”

  “I suppose not.” Although Philip wished that she had. “You don’t seem the type to be… I don’t know how to put it…”

  “Picky?”

  Philip winced. He had been thinking that but he didn’t want to insult her.

  “I did want to avoid that word.”

  “Don’t bother. I know I’m being picky.” Amy wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and sighed. “My parents have said it to me far too many times. They kept pushing me towards eligible bachelors back home and I found fault with all of them. I didn’t even like them before they were made my suitors. They always believed that one of these men would be my husband, and keep me in the lifestyle they thought I would be happy with.”

  She had been matched before. Philip felt sick. If she hadn’t been so picky, maybe Amy would have been married by now. And that meant they would never have met. He had never felt so glad about someone being picky before.

  Why was he even considering her as anything beyond a friend? He wanted to remain a bachelor. Didn’t he?

  Philip swallowed, trying not to sound hopeful.

  “And what do you want, Amy?”

  Amy sighed.

  “I want to be treated like I’m me, a person. I don’t want to be treated like an object, a trophy hanging off a man’s arm. That’s not me and I want to be seen as my own person.”

  “And nobody’s giving that to you.”

  “Not the men Mary and Gareth keep matching me with, or the men Ma and Pa paraded in front of me,” Amy said bitterly. “At this rate, they’re going to run out of men. Maybe I should have stayed where I was then the heartache would not be this bad.”

  Philip didn’t want to hear that. He grunted and took her arm, easing her to a stop. They were right outside the boarding house. All Amy needed to do was to walk up the stairs and go inside. But Philip didn’t want her going in. Not yet.

  “If it’s any consolation, Amy, I’m glad you’re here.” He shrugged when Amy stared at him. “It’s just nice to have someone genuinely interesting and decent to talk to. You don’t get many of those people around here.”

  Amy was looking like Philip had hit her over the head. She was silent, her mouth opening and closing. When she did get her voice back, she glanced toward the boarding house and took a few steps back.

  “I… I’d better go inside. Thank you for walking me home, Sheriff. Goodnight.”

  Then she was hurrying away, plowing through the door and almost slamming it behind her.

  Philip watched her go, unsure whether to be insulted by her hasty exit or whether to burst into laughter.

  What had just happened? After years as a lawman, Philip had no idea what was going on anymore.

  6

  “Amy?”

  Amy jumped when someone touched her arm. She looked up and saw Mary leaning over from her seat, frowning as she squeezed Amy’s elbow. Then she remembered where they were; on the back terrace of the boarding house, having tea. Mary had come over to get an update on what happened at the dinner with Wootton. Amy wanted to give her friend an earful but she was thinking about someone else.

  Philip Anthony.

  When had she started seeing him as something other than a friend? He always seemed to be there, a point of comfort. Someone she could vent to and verbally spar with. Philip wasn’t an argumentative person but he did know how to hold his own. Amy enjoyed that about him. He was rough around the edges and certainly needed some lessons in certain manners but Amy enjoyed his company. He treated her like a person. There was no seeing her as an object or the little and inconsequential woman. That was all Amy wanted.

  Phili
p gave her what she wanted but he had made it very clear that he would never marry, that his bachelor lifestyle was for life. That didn’t settle well with Amy and she had no idea why.

  But thinking about the sheriff wasn’t going to help her right now. She needed to concentrate on her friend. Amy squared her shoulders and gave Mary a small apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, Mary. I was miles away.”

  “I could tell.” Mary let go of Amy and sat back, still frowning. “I was asking you how the dinner with Gary Wootton went but you drifted off.”

  Amy made a face and reached for her teacup.

  “Awfully. He’s a self-obsessed man who talked about nothing but himself... and I’ve heard he’s not good with women.”

  Mary groaned.

  “Another one? That’s the fifth one you’ve turned down.”

  “For good reason.”

  “You said one wouldn’t be perfect because he stank!”

  “He worked with horses and said proudly he had never had a bath. I’m not marrying someone who stinks of year old horse...” Amy shook her head. “None of the others were this bad. What possessed Gareth to choose Wootton?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You and he chose the matches.”

  Mary shrugged, sipping at her tea.

  “I wasn’t sure about Wootton, either, but Gareth told me to trust him. And I did.”

  “Do you still trust him after that?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  Amy grunted.

  “I know you love your husband but I don’t think you should let him do anymore matchmaking. That would be a recipe for disaster for you.”

  “I’m inclined to agree. Gareth is a good man with a good heart but affairs of the heart don’t really seem to be his strong point.” Mary looked pained. “I’m sorry it was that bad, Amy. But you do realize choosing a man for you is incredibly difficult.”

  Amy didn’t think so. She knew who would be the perfect man for her. The problem was he wasn’t on Mary’s books. And he wouldn’t consider anyone for a wife.

  That hurt. A lot more than she expected.

  Amy sat back with a sad sigh. The tea was leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

  “Maybe I’m just destined to be alone. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mary scoffed. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

  “And I missed you.” Amy shook her head. “But I don’t want to bring everything down because I’m around you.”

  Mary laughed.

  “You really are being daft. That’s a defeatist attitude.”

  It felt like their roles had been reversed. Mary had been the defeatist one with many doubts, while Amy had been the confident one who gave her friend the courage to follow through on what she wanted to do. Now they had switched roles. Mary was confident and outgoing, loving and fun, while Amy had withdrawn into someone she didn’t recognize.

  While Mary’s transformation made Amy glad, Amy couldn’t be happy about her own transformation.

  There were footsteps coming up the steps. Then she heard someone say her name.

  “Amy?”

  Amy looked up. Her heart sank. Wootton was on the porch, his hat in his hands. He looked like he had dressed in his Sunday best. Amy had hoped not to see him again, not like this.

  It was a shame. He was a handsome man and he could have his pick of women, but Amy had a nagging feeling he was more than he appeared to be. And it was something she didn’t like.

  Mary turned and frowned at Wootton.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. Wootton?”

  “I came to see how Amy was.” Wootton gave Amy a slight smile. “She left dinner in a bit of a hurry last night. I was worried she had taken ill.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Wootton,” Amy said calmly, laying her hands on her lap. She needed to keep her wits about her now. Men didn’t like being rejected. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  Wootton gave her a smile that would have made another woman swoon.

  “It’s Gary, remember? You don’t need to be so formal, Amy. I mean, we are going to be married.”

  Married? Amy almost fell out of her chair. Mary looked equally shocked. Where had he got that idea from? Amy took a deep breath and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry but no, we’re not getting married.”

  Wootton’s smile momentarily faded. But then it was back again.

  “What do you mean, we’re not getting married? We met for dinner. That means you’re interested in marriage to me.”

  “It was dinner to see if we actually got along.”

  “And I thought we did.”

  Amy exchanged a look with Mary, who was staring at Wootton in stunned silence. The man had got things mixed up to the point he had no idea what he had gone into. He thought because she agreed to dinner it meant she agreed to everything else.

  “I left the dinner, Mr. Wootton, because I wasn’t enjoying myself.” Amy knew she had to be blunt and squared her shoulders. “I didn’t like your company so I made excuses to leave. And that doesn’t mean I’m going to marry you because I can’t think of anyone worse.”

  She hadn’t meant to be quite that mean but fear made her babble. As she spoke, Amy saw Wootton’s expression go from confused to surprise and then his eyes narrowed while his face went red. He snarled at her.

  “You lied to me, you little…”

  “Don’t say words that curse others in my presence, Mr. Wootton,” Mary said sharply. “I won’t allow it.”

  Wootton looked like someone had just told him to apologize for stealing food off a little child. But he wasn’t backing down.

  “I didn’t lie to you at all, Mr. Wootton,” Amy said evenly. “I am allowed to make my own choices. I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you just as I left but I was a fool. I just wanted to get out of there.”

  Wootton was clearly seething. Amy began to wonder if the top of his head was going to explode.

  “I was told this was guaranteed to be a marriage,” he protested.

  Mary sighed.

  “And my husband shouldn’t have said that because we don’t know. You do know it’s not guaranteed and it does depend on whether both parties want marriage at the end of the process, it can never be the choice of just one.”

  “That’s not what I was told,” Wootton snapped. “I was told this was a formality.”

  “No, you weren’t.” Mary stood. Amy couldn’t believe this was her friend, who once cowered in front of men. Mary Stanier faced Wootton down without batting an eyelid. “I think you’d better leave now, Mr. Wootton. You are not welcome company.”

  Wootton looked like he was about to argue but he thought better of it. He swung around on Amy, jabbing a finger into her face.

  “You will be my wife,” he hissed. “You will be Mrs. Wootton.”

  Amy watched him storm off and knew she was right. This man was bad news. Well, wild horses wouldn’t make her Mrs. Wootton.

  7

  Philip spent the next three days in a daze. He was barely able to concentrate and his work started to slip. Even his deputies were beginning to doubt him. They kept giving him worried looks when Philip missed something that normally he would pounce on. It wasn’t like him at all.

  Philip knew the reason why. Amy Palmer. That woman. She had turned him inside-out and thrown him for a loop.

  It was something he had wanted to avoid. Philip was determined to remain alone and not have his heart torn apart by one person. He didn’t want to end up with a marriage like the one his parents had ended up going through. But Amy was changing his mind rapidly. She filled his thoughts and wouldn’t leave. Philip tried to push it away and avoid Amy wherever he could but it was impossible. He always ended up outside the boarding house or the mission station. There was no getting away from her.

  Amy had well and truly snagged him. Philip didn’t like it. It meant going against what he had set his mind on. He needed to do something about Amy Palmer.


  And there was only one thing to do, as far as he was concerned. His heart had been set on it since Amy had flung herself into his arms.

  One evening, instead of heading straight home, Philip went to the mission station. Gareth was the one who opened the door, his auburn eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw the sheriff on the doorstep.

  “Philip? What are you doing here?”

  “I…” For the second time in his life, Philip was at a loss for words. He swallowed and squared his shoulders. “I wanted to speak to you and Mary.”

  “Of course.” Still looking wary, Gareth stepped aside. “Come on in.”

  This was already embarrassing and he hadn’t even started yet. Philip headed inside and followed Gareth down to the private room he and Mary shared just off their bedroom, their little sanctum.

  Mary was sitting by the fire sewing. She looked up at their entrance and put her sewing down as she blinked at Philip.

  “Philip. Is there something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mary frowned. She indicated the chair opposite her.

  “Sit down and talk to us.”

  “I can’t.”

  Philip couldn’t sit down or stay still; he was too antsy. He resorted to pacing, his boots thudding on the floor.

  Mary and Gareth exchanged looks but neither said anything. They simply waited.

  Philip wished they wouldn’t do that; the two of them seemed to work off each other far too well and knew when they needed to stay silent.

  It was something to be envious about.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Philip blurted out at last, turning to Mary. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Gareth. “I wanted to know if you could match me up.”

  Mary’s eyes widened but she nodded.

  “Of course, we can but… why the sudden change? You said you didn’t want to be married at all.”

  “I know I did but…” Philip tossed his Stetson onto the chair and ran his hands through his hair. “Things have changed, Mary. I have to swallow my pride and decide that I need to settle down. And I’ve found someone I want to do it with.”