Rachel was going to rip off the man’s head off and spit in the hole!

His buggy had thrown a wheel. Really?

Did he think she’d fall for that old-as-dirt excuse for being late?

She glanced behind her at the lone horse tied to the buggy. Poor thing looked worse for wear. Like she’d been rode hard and put up wet.

And why did he have to hire a buggy from the livery? She knew for a fact the Legacy had just bought a shiny new buggy. Sullivan would have loved to be seen in it.

A picture formed in her mind’s eye. Sullivan sipping coffee laced with the Kentucky bourbon he loved so much. After a moment, he shrugged and drained his cup. “Hell, why not?” he grumbled and headed off toward the barn for his horse.

Rachel shook herself from her thoughts and asked, “So, you want me to believe the buggy you bought only last month lost a wheel?”

Sullivan glanced at her and nodded. “That’s what happened.”

She seriously doubted that. She thought as she tapped her foot against the floor boards. “Hmm.”

Sullivan glanced her way, sighed, then pulled the buggy to a stop under a shade tree. “Is there something you want to say?”

Rachel squared her shoulders then nailed him with her most stern look. “I can tolerate most anything but dishonesty.”

Sullivan flinched, suddenly very interested in the reins he still held in his hand. His reaction was all the conformation she needed. “Why lie?” she asked. “I married you before you explained your tardiness. There’s no backing out now. Why give me a cock and bull story? At least, we wouldn’t be starting our union on a lie.”

Good Lord, woman, if you only knew.

Donovan scrubbed his hand over his face. The woman was right. A marriage formed on lies had no chance at happiness. Hell, right now, he’d just settle for harmony.

By marrying him—which solidified him as Sullivan in the eyes of the law, Rachel gave him the opportunity to have the life he wanted above all else. It was only fair that he did everything in his power to make her life as his wife a contented one too.

He couldn’t promise love. Hell, he wasn’t sure he was capable of love. There was too much stain on his soul for such a tender emotion. But he could give her respect, loyalty, and honesty—up to a point.

“You don’t trust me much, do you?” he finally said into the thick silence around them.

“I don’t know you well enough to trust you,” she countered.

“Really?” Donovan cocked an eyebrow. “Then why did you marry me?”

Rachel squirmed against the leather seat. “You know why.”

He nodded even though he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Leaning against the seat, he draped his arm over the backrest and studied her.

She studied him just as intently.

With a sigh, he said, “I’ve heard it said that you don’t really know someone until you marry them.”

Rachel nodded and remained silent.

“I propose,” he continued, “we start fresh, with a clean slate with no pre-existing expectations or assumptions. What do you think?”

After a lengthy pause, she nodded once more. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

To lighten the mood, Donovan clasped her right hand in his and shook. “Hello, my name is Sullivan Langley. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She gave his hand a hearty shake and grinned. “Hello, I’m Rachel Langley. I hope we become good friends.”

A hitch caught in his chest, be it from hearing her name linked to his or the amused glint in her blue eyes that seemed to warm him from the inside out, he couldn’t tell. Either way wasn’t good.

“Me too,” he answered as he urged the horse and buggy back onto the road.

A few minutes later, Rachel grasped the edge of the seat. “Is that Reaper’s Ravine up ahead?”

“Yes.” He noticed her knuckles had turned white with the force of her grip. “You okay?”

“I hate this part of the drive out to the Legacy. Every time I go over it, I think about the Pattersons.”

“Oh yeah. Why’s that?” Donovan asked, only halfway paying attention to their conversation as he focused on the path ahead of them.

“Why’s that? Are you kidding me?” Rachel turned her full focus on Donovan.

Well, shit! He’d forgotten to be vague with his comments—again.

He gave her his best sheepish grin, hoping she’d fall for his next half-truth. “I’m sorry to admit, but I was caught up in my own thoughts and wasn’t listening to you.”

That was the half truth.

“I think about the Pattersons when I travel around the ravine, too.”

That was a bald-face lie. He had no idea who the Pattersons were.

“It was so sad. The whole family killed, the youngest only six months old.” Rachel shuddered. “It was the first major accident Papa had to oversee after we moved to New Dawn Springs. I think the baby’s death haunted him the most. Papa didn’t sleep well for weeks.”

“A baby’s death is always a little harder to accept.” Donovan slowed them to a crawl when they reached the narrow path above Reaper’s Ravine, more out of respect for Rachel’s fear than necessity. Once they’d maneuvered around the ravine and Rachel relaxed beside him, he sped the horse up to a gentle gait.

A moment later, Rachel tensed again—but not out of fear. Yep, she’d just seen the Langley’s new buggy, one wheel missing with its axle impaled into the road. “Oh, Sullivan, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

He wanted to smirk and say, “I told you so.” But he didn’t.

Instead he gave her a roguish wink and took her hand in his. “Clean slate.”

Rachel laid her other hand over their joined hands. “Clean slate.”