Their Rebellious Bride (Return To Bridgewater Book 1)

by Vanessa Vale

  Their Rebellious Bride

  Return To Bridgewater - Book 1

  Vanessa Vale

  Their Rebellious Bride

  Copyright © 2019 by Vanessa Vale

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from both authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design: Bridger Media

  Cover graphic: Hot Damn Stock; Deposit Photos: lafita

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  Contents

  Please note:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Note From Vanessa

  Want More? Visit Steele Ranch!

  Spurred

  About the Author

  Also by Vanessa Vale

  Please note:

  While this is a standalone book, Tennessee and James are introduced in Their Brazen Bride, Book 8 of the Bridgewater series. It’s time for their story!

  Enjoy!

  1

  JAMES

  Of all the women in the Montana Territory, why did my balls ache for her? Tennessee Bennett was a handful. A handful dangerous to more than just herself, for I quickly discovered—once I’d gotten her to calm down enough to be coherent—she’d not only gotten herself kidnapped by a mad man, but had put my sister in the same room with him. Fortunately, after six days… six fucking days in the man’s clutches, Tennessee was now free, thanks to Abigail’s impetuousness assistance. Thankfully, both women had been whole and unharmed after the incident.

  As for Abigail, her two husbands had tended to her and taken her home to Bridgewater. It had been difficult to let them see to her—it had been my role until now—and I would have to adjust to their marriage, but they would keep her safe. Happy.

  And while Abigail had Gabe and Tucker, Tennessee had no one. No money. No place to live. No prospects for employment now that her schooling was complete.

  What she did have was me, and I was going to ensure she was taken care of. I hadn’t protected Abigail in the fire all those years ago. She’d rescued me. The guilt of that, of the scar she bore, reminded me of my failing every time I looked at her. I would not do so again. I’d save Tennessee, no matter what it took. Kind words, a spanking or even a hard fucking.

  To start, it appeared a spanking. Because while Abigail had sobbed and needed comforting and affection, Tennessee seemed to need nothing but the ability to vent her frustrations. On me.

  “James Carr, just because your sister is my closest friend doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do.”

  She looked up at me through her pale lashes. Those blue eyes, with dark circles beneath them from six days of worry and most likely sleeplessness, made me want to pull her into my arms and tell her everything would be just fine, but I couldn’t. Not now. I would not coddle. It was blatantly obvious—at least to me—she needed a stern hand for putting herself in such a predicament, and she would find that from me. I could only imagine coddling had gotten her into this mess, her father being too lenient in his rearing.

  “After what just happened?” I countered. “You were kidnapped and held for ransom. Grimsby was going to kill you.” I only knew all of this because she’d had to recount what had happened to the sheriff in charge. I took a breath, let it out, thinking of what could have been done to her. “Abigail came to your rescue and you fled, leaving her in that man’s house. Alone.”

  “I didn’t flee; I returned with the sheriff!” she snapped. For one whose head only came up to my shoulder, she had a keen ability to look down her nose at me.

  While Tennessee had no skills whatsoever to offer any kind of help in the situation they’d been in—and she had gone to get the sheriff—it was the fact that she’d pulled my sister into her own predicament that had me riled. And the fact that she’d put herself in such a danger in the first place.

  Six days with that man.

  “It might be best, young lady, if you didn’t talk, otherwise I’ll find an empty alley and take you over my knee,” I countered, leading her down the Butte sidewalk. The sooner we left town, the sooner we’d be alone where I could get her bent over my thighs, drawers down by her knees, ass bare and pink with my handprint.

  I’d never raised a hand to a female, and I wasn’t going to start now. This one riled me so. Of spirit and body. A spanking would do her—and me—a world of good. So would fucking the daylights out of her.

  Both might have similar results… Tennessee biddable and tamed, and both would be pleasurable for me. As for her? She might dislike a spanking to start, but she had a passionate nature, and no doubt she’d have a wet and needy pussy when done.

  But first, I had to find someplace private to mete out this punishment—an alley wouldn’t do no matter how I threatened… and to calm down beforehand. The more she spoke, the less I settled.

  The weather was quite warm, making for bustling streets. Wagons and horses with riders rode past. Tinny piano music carried from a saloon, which wasn’t surprising as there seemed to be one on every block. Wealthy copper kings mixed as pedestrians with ladies of the night and mine workers. I hated cities. The noise. The wild crush of humanity. I wouldn’t have come if not for Abigail’s disappearance. I wouldn’t be remaining if it weren’t for Tennessee. And not for very long.

  “I don’t want to go home with you,” she snapped, tugging against my hold.

  My hand was atop hers in the crook of my elbow to keep her from bolting, just as she was trying to do. I’d told her, in no uncertain terms, she was leaving Butte with me. I offered her no option, for she had no others.

  “I don’t even know you,” she added with a harrumph which caused her breast to bump into my upper arm. Inwardly, I groaned at the lush feel of her. While she barely came up to my shoulder, she had curves that were impossible to hide beneath her prim dress. The pale blue matched her eyes, but the cotton material covered her from neck to wrist to ankle. The garment was as innocent as she was. Perhaps not in disposition, but definitely in body.

  Oh, that sass. I couldn’t wait to see it turned to more… intimate tasks.

  For two years, since I’d first laid eyes on her at the finishing school, she’d filled my dreams, made my cock hard, forced me to frequently grip it and find relief with my hand while envisioning her long, pale tresses tangled in my fingers, the soft feel of her skin against mine, the sound of her moans as I pleasured her, the feel of her tight pussy as I filled her for the first time.

  I gritted my teeth, knowing she’d gone to Grimsby and put her life in danger when she could have come to me, and I would have saved her. That was done. Her father was dead and Grimsby on the way to jail.

  After two years, Tennessee Bennett was mine. I’d waited because she’d been too young, and I’d wanted her to finish school. But I’d been sick, and while I’d thought it a simple summer cold
, the doctor Abigail had summoned thought otherwise. An irregular heartbeat that indicated a weakness of the organ. Most likely an early demise. He’d looked grim at his diagnosis, as if I would drop at any time. I felt recovered from the cold, even if still tired. Was that because I was dying or that I just needed some sleep—and less stress? Perhaps I would die soon, but I had no intentions of doing so before I lived. Before I had what I wanted, and that was Tennessee.

  Abigail wouldn’t stand in the way, not that I doubted she’d object to our union; she was married and had kept her own secrets. I would keep my health a secret until I was able to return to the doctor.

  Now, nothing kept of us from being together—weak heart be damned—except perhaps Tennessee herself. It was time. She wasn’t just ready, she needed a real man. I would see her happy, settled, cared for. Cherished. Loved. I’d give her the moon if I could.

  “I am not a stranger. I am your closest friend’s brother,” I countered, twisting her earlier words to my liking.

  She pursed her full lips. “What do you plan to do with me?” she asked, one pale brow arched.

  Fuck, she was so lovely. It seemed I was a glutton for punishment because my cock didn’t want a biddable, meek woman for a wife. No, it got hard for this little hellcat who seemed more inclined to want to stomp on my balls instead of cupping them in the palm of her hand and feeling how much seed was in them to fill her virgin pussy.

  “Marry you, of course. And not just a regular marriage, a Bridgewater one. Do you know what that is?”

  Her eyes widened. “Marry?” she squeaked. “I don’t want to marry you.”

  Clearly, she only heard my first sentence, not the others, for then she’d know it wouldn’t just be me who claimed her, but Jonah Wells, too. Having two husbands would ensure she’d always be safe, that no harm would ever come to her. It was an instant decision. She was beside me and we would marry. But I’d been sick. I was sick, per the doctor. I wanted Tennessee, but I didn’t want to leave her—and possibly a child I might get upon her—alone if the diagnosis was accurate. Jonah Wells was the perfect candidate. The only person with whom I could imagine sharing a wife.

  He was to come to Butte and help me search for Abigail—I’d left the ranch in haste with Tucker and Gabe and had him summoned to come and assist—but had yet to lay eyes upon him. That wasn’t surprising since it had taken time for us to track Abigail to Grimsby’s house. We would come upon him, I was sure.

  “Why not? Grimsby was your latest conquest and you were prepared to marry him. I can’t imagine him being your first attempt.”

  I had Tennessee in my grasp, and I was not waiting for Jonah’s arrival to make things official. In a Bridgewater marriage, he’d still be her husband as well, ceremony or not. I knew he’d take one look at Tennessee and want her just as readily. Vows read, I’d know once and for all she’d be safe.

  Her eyes narrowed and she blushed, her pale skin giving away the truth without her uttering a word. She’d been husband hunting. Wealthy husband hunting and it had turned out disastrous. So bad her father had been murdered. Fuck, she was going to push me to insanity. Apoplexy might be an easier demise.

  “I might be a simple rancher, but I don’t drink to excess, don’t swear—at least in front of women, I have all my hair, my teeth,” I shared, placing a hand on my chest. I had money, too. Quite a bit of it along with a huge swath of land. As my wife, she would want for nothing, but I would not wed her because of it. “I’m exactly what you’ve been looking for.”

  And she was just what I’d been looking for. Her wild temperament and all.

  I took her arm, led her down the street once more. “Come, if you’re going home with me, we need to find a preacher first.” Then a bed.

  She tugged and shouted. “No! You told me I was going with you. You gave me no choice. I don’t want to go with you, let alone marry you.”

  Our progression was halted by a man who was rolling a wooden barrel from the dirt street toward a saloon, crossing our path.

  I arched a brow. Why was she being contrary? “You have no option but to marry. You wouldn’t have attempted luring Mr. Grimsby into the parson’s noose otherwise. I promise you I am a much better catch than that—” I didn’t finish the sentence, for the word I had for the man was not appropriate to mention aloud.

  “He’s kidnapping me! Help!” she shouted.

  I stared at her, stunned. Kidnapping? I wanted to toss her over my shoulder and do just that, but hadn’t thought it necessary. After what she’d been through, I’d expected her to be somewhat biddable and see I’d offered a safe haven for her. A marriage with a man who wanted her. Desired her for… her. And with me, she’d have two husbands. Twice the protection, the comfort, the love. Perhaps I’d been wrong.

  The burly man stilled the barrel, blocked our forward progression and stared at Tennessee, his gaze sliding to where I was gripping her arm. She yanked from my hold and went around the barrel to put distance between us.

  While the barrel roller was similar in height to me, he weighed quite a bit more. Beefy muscles from his employment made his arms bulge beneath his sweat-stained shirt. I worked hard on my ranch all day, but couldn’t compete with handling heavy kegs of beer. “What do you want with the lady?” he asked me. His voice was deep, and I couldn’t miss the way his thick hands clenched into fists.

  “He’s dangerous,” Tennessee added, then held her fingers up to her mouth as if hiding a quivering lip. I had to wonder if they’d taught theatrics at the finishing school she’d attended with Abigail.

  Oh, Tennessee was going to get a spanking of a lifetime when I got my hands on her for this. I took a step in her direction. “You were just rescued from being kidnapped. Really, Tennessee?”

  “He even has a gun!” she shouted, pointing to the weapon tucked into my pants at my hip. It was the one Abigail had taken from me and used to fire a warning shot at Grimsby. No doubt every man in the crowd that had formed around us carried a weapon. This might be the richest city on Earth, but it was still a wild territory.

  “Tenn—” I said, but was cut off when the burly barrel pusher reached out and grabbed my shirt. His punch landed before I could do no more than lift my hands in a feeble attempt for defense. I was knocked off my feet and slammed into the building’s brick wall. My head cracked against the hard surface, and as I slid to the ground, the world went black.

  I came awake to Jonah squatting on the sidewalk before me. He was my friend as well as my neighbor—if he could be called that when our ranches were large enough to make our homes over a mile apart—looked me over. A decade older, his assessment held plenty of experience. “Rough day?” he asked.

  Reaching out, I took his proffered hand, and he helped me up to standing. Wincing, I gently touched my eye, knowing it was swollen.

  “Fuck, that hurts.”

  I looked over Jonah’s broad shoulders. The brute and his barrel were both long gone. And so was Tennessee. Fuck.

  “Where did she go?”

  “Who? Abigail?” He looked both ways down the street.

  “No. Tennessee Bennett.” I sighed, rolling my head from side to side. “It is a thorough tale, but she’s the woman I told you about.”

  I’d shared my desire for Tennessee with him, my intentions to marry her and make her mine. In time. Well, the time was now, and it seemed she’d disappeared.

  “She knocked you out?” A smile spread across his face. “I admit, she has me intrigued.”

  I sighed, then grumbled, “No, she didn’t knock me out. She couldn’t punch a feather pillow and leave a dent. She made a commotion, said I’d kidnapped her and a brute of a man came to her rescue. By punching me.”

  I winced again at the pain in my face as he tilted his head back and laughed. Heads turned at his outburst, especially the ladies. With his fair hair, chiseled face and large physique, many a woman had tried to lure him into wedlock. None had succeeded as long I’d known him.

  “I told her we would marry
.”

  “Told?” He tipped his hat to two older ladies passing by. “No wonder you were punched. I’m surprised, along with that shiner, you aren’t wearing your balls for a necklace. Sweet words for a sweet disposition, perhaps?”

  I huffed out a laugh. Tennessee, a sweet disposition? I looked down the sidewalk in the direction we’d been walking but saw no glimpse of a pale blue dress or wheat colored hair. “The woman is a menace and needs a keeper.” I gave him a pointed look. “Two, actually. You’re marrying her as well.”

  His eyes widened in surprise.

  “I’m sick, Jonah. A bad heart.”

  “Who told you that?”

  I explained about Doctor Bruin visiting the house when I’d had the summer cold, but instead of telling me to remain in bed and drink lots of tea, he’d told me I would most likely collapse from heart failure.

  “I can’t believe I’m done for the world yet. I feel fine. I’m not going to deny myself what I want just because an old quack says I have a bad heart.” It was hard to admit, I had not come to terms with the possibility. In fact, I refused to believe it, although it did make me more determined. “I will marry her, but she needs two husbands.”

  “A Bridgewater marriage,” he replied in his calm, quiet way. He was friends with the men from the Bridgewater Ranch, knew of their ways, the reasons. Seen how successful the relationships were.

  I nodded. He would want Tennessee. He was learning her fiery nature without even setting eyes upon her. But when he saw her, when his cock pulsed at the first glimpse of her, I had no doubt he’d be less casual in marrying.