Read Online Valentine's Rose by E. E. Burke - Free Book Online Page A

with him, I’ll be going out to take a look at the property. Don’t look for me before dinner.”
    Something hopeful, and heartbreaking, filled her eyes. “Would you take me along? I’d like to see it. The property, that is.”
    He had no idea what he’d find, or who, and he refused to expose Rose to danger. Not to mention the temptation of being alone with her. He had less impulse control than most, and he didn’t want to test it with his temporary wife. “After I see what we’re dealing with.”
    Leaning down, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. The twin stains on her cheeks deepened from pink to red, triggering a hot rush of blood somewhere much lower than his face. He turned on his heel and left before anyone noticed he was getting hard as a stone.
    The morning air had a clean crisp quality, smelled of grass and something elemental, earthy, not quite like the countryside at home, but much nicer than the air in London, where he’d frittered away much of his time—and his inheritance.
    His father had purchased him one-way passage to America, a telling gesture. When he returned with his coffers replenished and repaid his debt, he wouldn’t need his father’s wealth or approval. He’d marry a woman who had a title and estate, as he had neither. A sound plan, except it didn’t excite him quite as much as it had before he’d wed Rose.
    Sweet Rose. He couldn’t let himself become attached. Rose could never fit in with his family, would feel more rejected and outcast than he had felt most of his life, for different reasons. Here, she could find a husband who could give her the kind of life and love she deserved.
    It was a fairly short walk to the land office, but Val couldn’t make his feet move fast. Hardt had given him a lecture about hedging his vows, saying Rose deserved better. That, Val couldn’t dispute. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t give Hardt another chance to chastise him. He’d get right to the point and keep the discussion related to business.
    Unlike the shabby structures housing older businesses, the land office looked like a building one might find back east. Given the scarcity of lumber, it had probably been shipped in, ready to assemble. In America, anything could be ordered from a catalog—stores, schools, churches, even brides—and trains would bring it. Fueled by coal.
    Armed with the assurance he stood to make a great deal of money, Val opened the door.
    Hardt sat working at a desk strewn with papers. He’d shed his coat, apparently comfortable doing business in waistcoat and shirtsleeves, another American peculiarity.
    The office took up a single room, with filing cabinets in the back, bookcases pushed up against another wall, and behind the desk, large maps showing completed and projected railway routes across the region.
    Until Val got inside, he didn’t see the men seated to his right: Jarvis, looking every bit the sore loser, and O’Shea. The Irish saloonkeeper offered a sympathetic smile.
    “Mr. Valentine, good morning.” Hardt stood. “I thought we’d see you soon, so I told Mr. Jarvis and Mr. O’Shea to wait.” He gestured to a chair closer to the desk. “Have a seat.”
    Alarms sounded in Val’s head. He considered the possible reasons the railroad agent would’ve invited these two men to join them, and could come up with nothing good. He held onto his hat brim and remained standing, which gave him a natural height advantage, as well as the ability to get away if for some reason the three decided to gang up on him. After a few run-ins with surly miners, he’d learned to plan for quick exits.
    “Thank you, but I can’t delay. I’m here to pick up the assigned deed.” He trained his attention on the railroad agent, while keeping the other two men in his peripheral vision. “I assume everything’s in order.”
    “Hell no, it ain’t in order, you uppity bastard.” Jarvis shot to his feet. His sparse mustache twitched like whiskers, and his black, beady eyes