Their Wanted Bride (Bridgewater Brides)

by Raisa Greywood

  Reggie approached and wrapped his arms around Dahlia, kissing her cheek. He took off his hat, revealing short cropped brown hair turning gray at the temples. “Sure am sorry, but I can’t afford to pay for help. You might try the next town over. I hear they’re looking for folks to mine coal.”

  Trying to deepen my voice, I said, “Thank you kindly. I’ll be on my way and leave you good folks to your supper.”

  “You’re welcome to break bread with us, stranger. I can’t let a man go without a good meal to tide him over,” Reggie said.

  I dredged up a smile, wishing I could have found a man like Dahlia’s husband. Thin and tall like an overgrown beanpole, Reggie wasn’t rich or handsome, but he loved his wife to distraction. I wanted that so badly. To my mind, his dedication to Dahlia trumped everything else. “Thank you, but I’ll be on my way. I can make the next town before dark.”

  Dahlia looked like she was about to cry, but nodded and waved as I vaulted up on Prince’s bare back. We’d hidden the sidesaddle deep in Reggie’s barn, where hopefully it would rot. Dahlia even packed me a small canvas satchel filled with food for the train ride and loaned me a second dress so I’d have something clean to wear when I arrived.

  I wasn’t sure how to feel about Reggie not recognizing me. He’d known me for years and I didn’t like leaving without saying goodbye. Yet it also meant I’d most likely pass through town unchallenged. Tapping my heels to Prince’s sides, I urged him into a canter toward the train station.

  The fare for us both was a goodly chunk of my savings, but it couldn’t be helped. Prince was quiet as the porter loaded him, giving only a soft whicker as he disappeared inside the car.

  As the door slid shut behind him, I heard Nathan’s husky voice along with the grating sound of Celeste’s complaints. Stiffening, I ducked out of sight behind a stack of baled tobacco.

  “Did you see her get on the train?” Celeste asked. “She has to be here.”

  “No,” Nathan replied. “I wouldn’t miss a pretty redhead in a blue dress riding a palomino. Are you sure she didn’t go home? Maybe she’s hiding in the barn with that damned horse.”

  “I’m telling you, she isn’t there, and none of her things are gone.”

  It was rare to see Celeste so flustered, but I didn’t have time to enjoy the sight of her red face and less than perfect hair. Keeping my head down, I scurried up the metal steps into the train as the conductor called for boarding. Let them figure it out on their own. I’d be in Montana and hopefully married before they found me. I found a seat next to a man with a heavy satchel and pulled my borrowed coat tight around my body to better hide my appearance. As the whistle blew, I sent up a little prayer that I’d find Caleb Mathis in a good humor, and good skill in bed.

  Keeping my movements hidden from my seatmate, I stroked my hands up my thighs under my coat, imagining what his touch would feel like. My belly clenched and I bit back a whimper when the man next to me snorted in his sleep.

  The long trip gave me time to think. The second my new husband got me in front of a preacher, he’d be the owner of almost a thousand acres of prime Kentucky bluegrass pasture, lock, stock, and the entire damned barrel.

  I was absolutely sure Nathan and Celeste had some scheme worked up to steal my home out from under me. My active imagination spun me all sorts of tales that rang with suspicion. It was possible I was wrong, but I didn’t think so. Although the whole story sounded like something out of a Gothic novel, Celeste’s underhanded tactics, along with the short few days Nathan had given me made me almost sure those two were up to something nefarious.

  When the train stopped in St. Louis, I sent Mr. Mathis a telegram advising him of my arrival. I also decided not to tell him of my bequest. At least, not right away. It was probably the imaginings of a silly little girl, but I wanted the man I married to want me because of me—not because of money.

  And if he could give me a secret smile like the one Dahlia always had, I’d count myself doubly blessed.

  3

  JUSTIN

  * * *

  The noon train pulled through town a few minutes after we arrived, disgorging one passenger, a small man in ragged clothes with unkempt brown hair tucked under a battered cap. Unfortunately, no women exited any of the cars.

  Biting back my disappointment, I dismounted and jerked my chin toward the stranger. “You think he might need a job? Looks like he might work for bread and board.”

  Maybe our new wife was busy gathering her things after her trip. It was possible she’d missed a connecting train somewhere too. I doubted our mysterious lady would have bothered with a telegram if she hadn’t intended to show up. The thought cheered me a bit, and at the very least, we might be able to convince the small man to work for us.

  With extra help, we’d be able to spend more time preparing for our wife’s arrival too. My cock swelled as I thought of finally being able to trace her soft curves and holding her between us.

  Caleb grunted, stepping away from his mare when she tried to bite. I had no idea why he insisted on riding the cantankerous beast. Pure stubbornness, I supposed. That was as good an explanation as any.

  “Maybe,” he finally said. “We could use the help.”

  Nodding, I dropped my horse’s reins over the hitching post and approached the small man, stopping short when a porter led an ugly brown stallion from the train. The horse jerked free and made a beeline for the small man, rubbing his nose against the stranger’s chest.

  The man let out a surprisingly high-pitched giggle and scratched the stallion’s face. He led his horse to the livery stable without bothering with a lead rope, making me wonder if he could take our range horses in hand, especially Caleb’s.

  “He has a good touch with horses,” Caleb murmured, joining me as I leaned against the fence surrounding the livery stable yard.

  “With that chestnut stallion, at least.” Hopefully, the stranger wouldn’t take too long. Clouds, carrying the dry scent of incipient snow, were forming and even Caleb was giving the sky a distrustful glare. Montana weather was unpredictable at best this early into spring. One day might be warm enough to work in shirtsleeves, but the next might produce a foot of snow.

  We waited in the stable yard until the stranger returned. As he passed us, I held out a hand, stopping him. “You have a mighty good touch with horses, friend. Are you looking for work? We can offer room and board until we get our cattle sold. If things work out after that, we’re willing to talk salary.”

  Shivering, the man drew his coat tightly around his small frame and lifted his chin, revealing strikingly pale green eyes the color of spring grass. “No, thank you, sir, but perhaps you could help me. I’m looking for Caleb Mathis. Could you direct me to his ranch?”

  “You’ve found him,” Caleb replied, taking a step forward. “This is my partner, Justin Carter. What can we do for you?”

  The man pulled off his hat, revealing a long swath of oddly colored brown hair. In fact, the hue was a near exact match for the stallion’s ugly hide. His voice changing to a higher, decidedly feminine pitch that made my cock twitch inexplicably, he glanced around and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “My name is Madelaine O’Connor. I’m here in response to your advertisement for a wife.”

  Caleb coughed out a laugh and shook his head. “I’m afraid we’re looking for a woman to be our wife, but the offer of a job stands if you’re interested.”

  O’Connor amused me, that was for sure, and it had been a long time since I’d found anything funny. Despite myself, I was interested in the small fellow’s story. “What really brings you out to Montana?” I asked.

  Gritting his teeth, the man inhaled and let his air out slowly before speaking. “Sirs, will you direct me to the nearest hotel and wait for me? At least give me a chance to prove my gender.”

  Whoever this Madelaine was, he had nice manners. I couldn’t rightly recall if anyone had ever called me sir. That predisposed to me to like him, regardless of his tall tales.


  Laughing outright, Caleb nodded and pointed toward the clapboard hotel at the end of the street. “We can give you an hour. After that, we’re heading home.”

  O’Connor grinned impishly, his button nose wrinkling. “I won’t need that long. Wait for me in the dining room and I’ll buy you supper for your trouble.”

  Without another word, he walked away, leaving Caleb scratching his head. “What do you think?” he asked, turning to face me.

  I watched O’Connor stride toward the hotel, cocking my head at… Was that the sway of a round bottom under a too-often mended coat? It was hard to tell under all that dusty gray fabric, but it made me wonder. “Don’t rightly know,” I finally said. “Might get us a free supper though.”

  We followed O’Connor into the hotel, watching with interest as he paid for their best room and asked for a bath. When he had his room key, he turned and said, “I won’t be long.”

  When I nodded, he disappeared up the steps, his boots making no sound on the polished wood floor.

  CALEB

  * * *

  Something was wrong here. This whole situation set me on edge. Was this O’Connor fellow telling us the truth? I’d never heard tell of a woman dressing as a man, or vice versa. It didn’t make much sense to me, and raised a whole mess of questions I wanted answers to.

  Namely, how did a person exiting one of the third-class train cars, male or female, have the funds to engage the hotel’s best room and buy supper for three, along with a hot bath?

  “You’re scowling,” Justin muttered. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I don’t like this.” I shook my head and strode outside. If O’Connor was truly female, she’d take forever making herself presentable. We had plenty of time to discuss our options. I lowered myself into one of the rockers set out on the porch for guests and lit a cigar. “Why would a woman disguise herself as a man? Did you see him pay for the room outright? Where did he get the money?”

  “There’s that stallion too. He’s ugly as sin, but I’m beginning to wonder if O’Connor stole him.”

  “I don’t think so.” I took a puff from the cigar and passed it to Justin. “Did you see how the horse followed her? When was the last time you saw that?”

  “That old flea-bitten gray plow horse of your daddy’s. Remember how he used to follow your mama around?”

  Laughing, I retrieved the cigar. “Yep, I sure do remember that. Mama had a right good hand with him too.”

  Justin leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his belly. “So maybe O’Connor didn’t steal the chestnut stallion. Doesn’t explain why he has so much money.”

  “No saddle or tack either. Just a rope halter he didn’t use.” I handed the cigar over.

  Justin laughed and took it from me. “He or she?” He took a puff, then stubbed it out. “I’m thinking O’Connor is the woman we’re waiting for.”

  “Why?”

  “Madelaine O’Connor. The initials match what was on the telegram. Aside from that, she has an awfully high-pitched voice.”

  “Still doesn’t explain why she’s dressed as a man.”

  My best friend lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Safety. Traveling by herself would have been risky for a young lady, and she can’t be more than twenty or so.”

  “True. Pretty manners too.”

  Nodding, he smiled grudgingly and pulled his hat over his eyes. “I could get used to being called sir, especially if she’s on her knees asking for my cock. I’m going to rest my eyes for a spell. Wake me when she shows up.”

  “He, you mean?” If O’Connor truly was the woman we were waiting for, we’d both get the pleasure of what Justin described. I couldn’t help the faint hope welling in my chest that traveled lower into my gut, making my shaft thicken. She sure did have pretty eyes and I couldn’t wait to see them clouded with passion.

  Well, if she really was a woman, that was.

  “Either one.”

  I nodded and lit another cigar. The clouds were starting to drift apart, taking away the dry scent of snow. Didn’t mean it wouldn’t snow later, but we could afford to wait a little longer.

  Several minutes later, just as my eyes were drifting shut, a graceful feminine hand plucked the cigar from my fingers. I sat up, nearly tipping the rocker backward as I stared up into vivid green eyes surrounded by damp curls the color of a sunset, although a few strands remained a dusty brown.

  Madelaine was definitely a woman, and stunningly beautiful in a neat blue cotton dress that hugged a shapely waist and pert breasts I suddenly wanted to suckle. Her tattered coat made me frown. It wasn’t suitable for the weather here and barely covered her.

  She took a puff off the cigar and handed it back, then gave me a small grin. Lord have mercy, the sight of her in that prim dress made me hard as an iron pipe. I let out a breath, reminding myself no honorable man would take her into the alley, flip her skirts up and fuck her. Her plump lips would look so beautiful wrapped around Justin’s shaft.

  Justin’s chair fell backward as he leaped to his feet, belatedly snatching his hat from his head. His brown eyes wide, he gaped at her like a caught fish. I didn’t have to look at the front of his trousers to know he’d be just as hard for her as I was.

  The men of Bridgewater always said they just knew when the right woman came along, and now I understood what they meant. Madelaine O’Connor was going to be ours. Tonight, she’d be between us in a marriage bed, screaming our names in passion as we made her our wife in truth.

  I gazed at her, unable to speak for a moment. All the blood that made my brain function went straight to the hardening shaft in my trousers and I imagined laying her down in our brand-new bed. We would strip her out of that dress, and I would waste no time finding out if she tasted like lemon ice and warm woman. “I, uh…”

  “Do I meet your expectations, sirs?” she asked.

  My eyebrows went up. “You really did see the advertisement? Came all this way to be our wife?”

  She nodded once. “I did.”

  I stiffened. Our bride traveled alone, disguised and without protection. We wouldn’t be allowing that again.

  “I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering supper for the three of us. I hope you don’t mind steak.” She turned, obviously expecting Justin and me to follow.

  I wasn’t about to let her get away so easily. I’d have to turn her over my knee and spank her bare bottom pink to get the truth out of her before I did anything else. Catching up with her, I took her arm and pulled her close before she reached the door. Whispering in her ear, I asked, “Why were you dressed as a man, Miss O’Connor?”

  Justin took her other arm and loomed over her on the other side. “Why was your hair dyed? Are you running from something?”

  “The short answer is yes,” she hissed back. “You’ll have to wait for the long answer until after the wedding.”

  “Long answer now,” I retorted, needing to know the woman who would be ours was not in danger. “I also want to know where that stallion came from.”

  “His name is Prince, and I’ve had him since he was a yearling. He’s part of the long story I want to tell you.” She shivered in her thin coat. “If you’ve finished your cigar, may we go inside? It’s quite cold.”

  Biting back a curse, I wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders, hurrying her inside once Justin opened the door. I wasn’t about to let her go. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Madelaine O’Connor would be our wife before the sun set. After that, we’d show her what it meant to be a Bridgewater bride. My balls ached with anticipation, and I wanted to take her straight to the small church. After we loved her to sensual bliss, we’d feed her from her hands until she was sated with delight.

  Her footsteps slowed as we approached the Franklin stove and she held her hands over its heat, rubbing them together. “I think you have a long story to tell me too,” she murmured softly.

  “Oh? What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Why do you say we and us whe
n you’re talking about looking for a woman to be your wife?”

  Rubbing my face, I gave her a shamefaced grin. As usual, I was putting the cart before the horse, but I was too anxious to get her into bed where she belonged. “I suppose you’re right, Miss Madelaine. Are you ready for supper?”

  “It depends,” she replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Are you going to tell me your long story in exchange for mine?”

  “Of course. Afterward, we’ll answer all your questions.”

  “Thank you.” She bit her lip and looked toward the restaurant. “I do owe you both an apology. I’d intended to present myself at your ranch in proper clothing after a bath and a good night’s sleep. I can well understand how my appearance must have confused you at first, but it was necessary.”

  Her immediate apology mollified me, but I was definitely going to spend some time with Madelaine O’Connor turned over my knee. She was too independent and willful by half and would probably spend quite a bit of time with a reddened bottom in the future.

  “I’m sure that’s part of your long story,” I murmured.

  “It is. Shall we go in to supper? I’ve already paid for it, so we might as well enjoy it while we tell each other our stories.”

  I bit my tongue against the questions that raised. Where had she gotten money for the train passage and the hotel, plus a steak dinner for three people? There weren’t too many ways a woman could earn money, and she didn’t look the type to make a living on her back. It made me wonder as to her safety. A rich woman having to disguise herself to get away?

  I held my curiosity in check, unwilling to offend her. Besides, we hadn’t figured out she was a woman until she’d appeared in a dress. We’d been so busy on the ranch, we probably couldn’t pick a soiled dove out of a pack of church ladies. We had a bride now and had to be more attentive.

  Holding out an elbow for her, I asked, “Shall we, Miss O’Connor?” When she nodded and laid slim fingers on my arm, I leaned close, inhaling the scent of lemon soap, just as I’d imagined. I couldn’t wait to get our future wife between us. We’d have her begging for the passion only Justin and I could provide.