Reluctant Proxy Bride

by Margaret Tanner

  Contents

  RELUCTANT PROXY BRIDE

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  EPILOGUE

  Author Links

  About the Author:

  Other Books by me can be found on my Amazon page:

  RELUCTANT PROXY BRIDE

  By

  Margaret Tanner

  Copyright © 2020 Margaret Tanner

  Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.

  This story is a work of fiction and to enhance the story, some literary license has been taken regarding setting and geography. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.

  Acknowledgements: Many thanks to my author friend Cheryl Wright for all her help and support.

  To my loyal readers: Thank you so much for your support. You can’t know how much I appreciate it.

  Editor: Lisa Miller – Got You Covered

  Colorado 1870’s

  Who on earth was that? Tyler Dean squinted into the sun. He rarely had visitors up here, just the way he liked it. As the horseman drew closer, he recognized his older brother Joel. They hadn’t seen each other in months, even though they lived less than eight miles apart.

  He scratched his long beard with his forefinger, a nervous gesture he had picked up a few years ago. One of his many peculiarities as Joel took pleasure in telling him. His younger brother Isaac reckoned he was crazy in the head, and he never denied it. If they had been through what he had, they would be stark raving mad.

  Bitterness filled his heart until he could scarcely breathe. He had survived the horrendous conditions in Andersonville. A skilled surgeon who had to let men die because he had nothing to treat them with. The war had killed his faith in medicine and mankind. All he wanted was to be left alone with his nightmares and his guilt.

  “Howdy, Tyler.”

  “What do you want? I’m not moving from here so save your breath.”

  “You might have to,” Joel snapped. “Isaac and I stand to lose our ranches too, thanks to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Did you look at those papers I left here a while ago?”

  “I glanced at them.”

  “And you did nothing.” Joel glared at him. “Isaac and I have fulfilled the terms of Uncle Henry’s will, and you haven’t.”

  “So what?”

  “You knew the codicil as well as we did. If the three of us don’t marry within twelve months of his death, we all lose our places.”

  “It was a foolish stipulation. Uncle Henry was obviously suffering senile decay.”

  “Stupid or not, it’s the law. If all three of us don’t get married, the entire estate goes to Cousin David in New York. Where will you be if you can’t hide out up here?”

  “I forgot.” It was a pathetic excuse and Tyler knew it. He couldn’t leave here as he would never cope in the world beyond the mountain.

  “Forgot! I don’t care if you jeopardize your place, such as it is,” Joel sneered. “Isaac and I have worked hard on our places and followed the terms of the will. Now, we stand to lose everything because of your selfishness.”

  “All right.” Tyler threw his hands up in surrender for the second time in his life. The repercussions this time would never be as dire as the previous time.

  “Do you want to get down and come inside the house?”

  “No. You might call it a house, but I call it a soddy.” Joel dismounted and stepped up to him. “You need to get yourself a wife within the month.”

  “How?”

  Joel muttered a swear word. “A proxy bride.”

  “A what?”

  “You heard me. You do know what a proxy bride is?”

  “Yes,” Tyler snapped, “I’m not a complete idiot.”

  “Aren’t you?” There was a derisive curl to Joel’s lips. “A skilled surgeon living in squalor up here. You can’t tell me that’s normal.”

  Tyler held up his trembling hands. “I could barely pick up a scalpel, let alone use it. And I don’t live in squalor. It suits my needs.”

  “We’re wasting time.” Joel pulled several pieces of paper out of his coat pocket. “There’s a company in Boston who specializes in proxy marriages. They arrange for a bride and organize someone to stand in as your proxy at the wedding ceremony. In fact, they do everything.”

  “I don’t have to leave here?”

  “No. You just need to fill out the forms, sign them, and pay a fee for the company’s expenses and to pay off the bride,” Joel said.

  “What kind of woman would sell herself to a man she didn’t know?”

  “A desperate one,” Joel snapped.

  “I don’t want a woman here.” Just the thought of it made him tense up.

  “We can make that a stipulation of the agreement. You don’t need to meet, and at the end of twelve months, the marriage can be annulled. The woman has her money, while we get to keep our ranches.”

  Tyler gnawed his lower lip. It sounded too easy to him. Something like this was fraught with danger. “I’m not sure.”

  “It’s the only way. You’ve left it too late for anything else except…” Joel snapped his fingers. “A soiled dove from Matilda’s cathouse in Farnley Junction.”

  Tyler rocked back on his heels, his stomach curdling with distaste.

  “Take your choice, fill out and sign the form or I swear, Isaac and I will drag you by the scruff of the neck into Matilda’s and pick out a wife for you.”

  “All right, I’ll sign the wretched papers. How much will it cost?”

  “Two hundred dollars.”

  “Two hundred dollars! I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Isaac and I are prepared to loan it to you.”

  “You must be desperate.” Tyler shot the words out.

  “We are. Don’t forget, there’s five hundred dollars as well to be shared between us when the estate is finally settled. We can take our money back then. I’ve managed to find the money and Isaac is prepared to borrow from the bank.”

  Tyler gasped.

  “It’s better than losing our ranches. I can’t believe you did nothing about getting a wife. Isaac and I made the effort, and I have to say, ranch or no ranch, it was the best move we ever made.”

  “It’s all very well for you two.” Tyler disliked the whining tone of his voice.

  “We were in the war, too,” Joel growled. “It was no bed of roses for us, either.”

  “You weren’t a prisoner in Andersonville.”

  “I know. It must have been terrible for you, but the war has been over for several years. Time to move on.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Won’t, you mean. Hiding yourself out here, wallowing in self-pity. You make me sick.”

  “You were always so pious, Joel.”

  “Fill the papers out. I’ll stay out here. I hope you have pen and ink.”

  “I don’t. Will a pencil do?”

  “It will have to. I can witness your signature. Here, I brought a pencil with me, just in case.”

  “The ever practical, Joel.”

  “Someone has to be.”

  Tyler held the paper against his knee. “I�
�ll sign and you can fill out the form for me.”

  “All right. If that’s what it takes. Initial each page just to be on the safe side.”

  “Emphasize, I don’t want the woman to contact me in any way, shape, or form. And as soon as the twelve months is up, we get an annulment.”

  “Okay, just so long as you get the marrying done and we all get to keep our ranches.” Joel gave a derisive sniff. “A woman would have to be really desperate to come out here. Unless she was a crazed hag, she’d run a mile if she saw this place.”

  “How I live is no business of yours.”

  “I don’t know how you can stand living a hermit-like existence out here. Wasting your medical skills.”

  “It suits me.” Tyler couldn’t be bothered telling his brother that he still did a little doctoring over at a church run reservation for elderly, displaced Indians. “What about a character reference?”

  “Isaac’s wife is a schoolteacher. We’ll use her. Besides, Isaac and I are respectable ranchers who will vouch for your character.”

  Tyler gave a short bark of laughter. “You are desperate if you’re prepared to put in a good word for me.”

  “If you had done the decent thing and got yourself a wife, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “It mightn’t be legal if you lie about me.” Tyler didn’t know why he was deliberately baiting his brother. Well, he did really. He was annoyed at his assumptions and wanted to irritate him.

  “If necessary, we’ll lie by omission. Nothing too blatant.”

  “Only some desperate woman would do this, so she won’t be too fussy,” Tyler said.

  “The agency is a reputable one.” Joel snatched the papers from him. “I’ll let you know when I hear something back.”

  “Okay.”

  Joel reeled his horse and rode off, leaving Tyler fuming. He never wanted to get married. Didn’t want to do anything except be left alone. Why couldn’t people understand that. He had been close to his brothers before the war. Joel and Isaac had been able to patch up their fractured lives and relationship, whereas he found it impossible.

  At thirty-six, he was not an old man. Although, he felt twice that age sometimes. He lived a simple life out here growing his own meat and vegetables. He received a small stipend from the church who ran the reservation for his medical work. It was only about four miles away on the other side of his mountain, and he quite enjoyed going there.

  An old medicine man who lived there had taught him about herbal medicines and remedies, which he was now able to make up himself. The general store in Harper’s Mount would buy as much of it as he could supply. He had a standing arrangement to meet the owner every fourth Friday at the halfway mark between their two places, when he would exchange his medicines for supplies. It suited him and gave him a comfortable enough lifestyle.

  What kind of desperate woman would become a proxy bride to a man she had never seen and never would? He gave a low chuckle. What kind of man would do it? He found the irony of the situation amusing.

  He should have read those papers that Joel had dropped off months ago and signed them right there and then, but he had only recently climbed out of a deep black hole of depression that had been triggered by the death of the old medicine man.

  If he lost this place, he didn’t know what he would do. The solitude and emptiness of the mountain top hideaway kept him sane. What if Joel couldn’t organize his proxy bride in time?

  Chapter Two

  West Virginia

  Ruth McNulty brushed away the tears cascading from her eyes. Had Virgil not been killed, the baby she carried might have gotten their marriage back on track. It had never been a real love match, although they had been reasonably happy together until the demon drink had taken hold of him. The prospect of motherhood filled her with fear because soon, she would have no one to help her. Reverend McDonald and his wife, who had been so kind to her, were returning to Scotland.

  “I think it’s a good offer, lass,” Reverend McDonald said. “The best ye be going to get under the circumstances.”

  “Boston is so far away.” She sniffed back the tears.

  “If we weren’t returning to Scotland, ye would be welcome to stay here with us for as long as ye needed too.”

  “Thank you, Reverend. You and Mrs. McDonald have been so kind, something I didn’t expect because of what Virgil did.” Talk about turning the other cheek and loving one’s enemies. In a drunken rage, her husband had set fire to their church. Not content with that, he lit fires in several other buildings as well, gleefully watching as they burned to the ground. A decent enough man when he was sober, in the throes of drunkenness he became violent. Not against her, but society in general.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Osborne are decent, God-fearing people who will see you and your bairn come to no harm. The doctor’s wife speaks highly of them, and they were kind enough to send you the fare money.”

  “Thank you for everything. I sincerely hope you and Mrs. McDonald have a safe journey home to Scotland. I’m sorry Mrs. McDonald is away so I couldn’t farewell her personally.”

  “To be offered the kirk where we both attended as children, well, we just couldn’t turn it down. Here you are, my dear.” He handed over an envelope. “I’ve written you out a character reference.”

  As Ruth boarded the train, her heart felt weighed down with lead. All her dreams and aspirations were as dead as the ashes of the buildings Virgil had set fire to. The last fire he lit took his life when he was trapped inside by falling timber.

  Reverend McDonald stood on the platform waving as the train pulled out of the station with the grinding of steel wheels against steel rails. She pulled back from the open windows in case a flying cinder lodged in her eye.

  The compartment was full, a mixture of young and old. Everyone seemed to know someone else, except for her. She was a poor widow woman left all alone. In truth, she had been alone for almost her whole life.

  Dumped on the doorstep of a foundling home as a newborn baby, she had been clothed and fed by them. The people there had taught her how to read and write and when she was about eleven, started training her for domestic service. That had been her life, until she turned fourteen and left the orphanage to work as a maid for a wealthy ranching family. She had met and succumbed to Virgil’s charms. At that time, he had also been working at the ranch, even though he was a bootmaker by trade.

  She had been flattered that such a good-looking young man had even noticed her, since the matron at the orphanage used to tell her she was so plain she would never amount to much. “Your insipid blonde hair and pale blue eyes make you look weak and puny, suitable for nothing except domestic chores,” she had continually said. Any wonder she’d always had a low opinion of herself.

  She had been seventeen when she married Virgil. She had feared she was barren as no child had resulted from their union for five years. It was only about three months before his death that she realized she was carrying his child.

  ◆◆◆

  After days of train and coach travel, Ruth finally arrived in Boston and alighted, carrying her carpetbag and reticule. The wooden sea trunk Reverend McDonald had given her was in the luggage van.

  It was so good to be able to stretch her legs. If she never travelled on a coach or train again, it would be too soon. Once her trunk had been unloaded by the station assistant, she waited to be picked up by someone sent by the Osbornes.

  Mrs. McDonald had made all the arrangements. She was a kindly soul like her husband. True servants of God.

  A middle-aged man strode up to her. “Are you Mrs. McNulty?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m Abe Duckworth. I’ve come to take you to the Osborne’s house.”

  “Thank you.” She would just about sell her soul for a nice cup of tea or coffee.

  “You’ll be working at the big house. Mr. Osborne is in England fixing up the estate of his late father at the moment. If you can carry the carpetbag, I’ll take the trunk.”

/>   “I can easily carry my bag, but my trunk is heavy. It’s that sea chest, and it has everything I possess packed inside.”

  The trunk was easy to pick out amongst the few items of luggage left on the platform, because it was an old one and made of wood, whereas all the other luggage looked to be leather. He picked it up with surprising ease. Either he was a strong man, or she was a puny weakling, as she had barely been able to move it once it was packed.

  She followed the man to a small buckboard. Without a word, he deposited the trunk and carpetbag in the back then with an impersonal hand under her elbow, helped her on board before climbing up beside her.

  “Is it far to the Osborne’s house?”

  “Not far.”

  They passed through the center of town and Ruth gasped at the array of fancy stores and beautiful buildings, the like of which she had never seen before. After only a short time, they turned off the road on to a circular drive.

  “I’ll take you around the back. Only invited guests use the front entrance.”

  She nodded.

  The large, red brick house stood on a slight rise with half a dozen stone steps leading to the front porch. It was double storied, with two dormer windows poking out from under the eaves, adding a third level.

  She followed Abe’s gaze. “Servant’s quarters are up the top. We have our own accommodation out the back.”

  “The gardens look lovely,” she said and meant it. Carefully tended grass, flower beds with a mixture of pretty flowers and shrubs growing in them, and several stately trees.

  “I’m the gardener, too,” he said with a note of pride in his voice.

  She didn’t quite know how to take the man who seemed friendly enough and yet there was a slight aloofness about him. It was almost as if he resented her for some strange reason.

  He pulled up near the back door, jumped down, and helped her out. “I’ll bring your luggage up on to the porch before I attend to the horse.”

  “Thank you.”

  He escorted her to the back door, which by the appetizing smells wafting on the air, was the kitchen. “Mrs. Duckworth, my wife, is the housekeeper and cook here. You will be helping her. When Mr. Osborne is here, we have a woman coming in for a few hours each day to do the heavy work.” He pushed open the door. “You there, Harriet.”