Bride by Arrangement

by Karen Kirst

  Constance said she didn’t mind the scars, but she’d spoken the words in haste. She would say anything to get him to agree to the marriage Will had promised her. Well, she could have her Cowboy Creek husband—it just wasn’t going to be him. She’d thank him later.

  Noah was in the middle of the intersection on his way to the Cattleman when he recognized his friend Daniel Gardner. He and his new bride, Leah, were preparing to enter Booker & Son general store. Changing course, he lifted his hand and called Daniel’s name.

  They both turned at the same time. Leah’s shining blond tresses rippled in the breeze. Her apricot dress was let out at the waist to showcase her expanding form. Thanks to Leah, Opal and the reverend’s daughter, Hannah, their town’s population was on its way up. More mail-order brides meant new families, cementing Cowboy Creek’s future. Constance’s impish countenance flashed in his mind. If she settled on one of their businessmen or ranchers, she’d likely add to the population, as well.

  The thought felt like a hot poker plunged in his gut. Calling up his annoyance at Daniel’s actions, he strode to meet the couple.

  “Noah.” Daniel’s deep green eyes searched his, gauging his mood. “I was going to stop by the jail once we’d finished our shopping.”

  “Good morning, Noah.” Leah glowed with good health, her smile a testament to the success of her and Daniel’s union.

  Will, Daniel and Leah had grown up together in Pennsylvania. She and Will had gotten engaged at a young age, but the distance during the war had taken its toll on the relationship. Leah ultimately married a Union officer and moved away, so discovering she was on their first bride train had shocked both men. Even more of a shock was the fact she was widowed and expecting a baby. Wanting to provide a stable, secure life for her, Daniel had hidden the feelings he’d never declared behind an offer of a marriage based on friendship.

  Fortunately for his friend, love had blossomed between the two. It was that love and happy marital state that surely must’ve prompted Daniel to go against Noah’s wishes and do the unthinkable.

  “I went to your office about an hour ago,” he told Daniel. “They said you hadn’t come in today.”

  Fiddling with her earbob, Leah blushed. “That was my fault. I needed my husband at home this morning.”

  The smile Daniel bestowed on her spoke of a happiness Noah could only dream of.

  “Why don’t you go on in while I speak to Noah? I’ll join you in a bit.”

  Nodding, she balanced her weight against his arm and, leaning into him, planted a kiss on his cheek. “See you later, darling. And you, Noah.”

  “Take it easy, Leah.”

  By silent agreement, they moved along Second Street until they came to the deserted churchyard. This side street wasn’t as busy as the main thoroughfare. Through the wooded area behind the church building, the roof of Will and Tomasina’s house was visible.

  “I saw Will yesterday.” Seeking out the shade of a sixty-foot-tall box elder tree, Daniel removed his derby hat and dusted off the crown. A hank of chestnut hair slipped into his eyes, and he impatiently shoved it aside. As owner of the stockyards, he favored cowboy attire. Today, however, he was dressed like Will, in a fine brown suit and polished boots. “He told me about the widow and her daughters. What’s she like?”

  “That’s your first question?” Noah demanded, throwing his hands wide. “I thought your first would be to ask how I’m coping with this latest problem in a long string of them. One I didn’t ask for and didn’t see coming. I never dreamed my closest friends would go behind my back and do something so underhanded.”

  Daniel looked disconcerted. “We didn’t do it to add to your burdens. Our goal was to force you out of this ridiculous solitude you’ve consigned yourself to.”

  “It’s not ridiculous,” he ground out. “You know why I’ve chosen this life.”

  “I was in the war, too, remember?” he said quietly. “Man or woman, adult or child, I’m not convinced you’d find anyone in this nation who came through it unaffected. That doesn’t mean you have to give up on life. You’re as worthy of happiness as the rest of us, Noah.”

  “I don’t agree. The way I feel inside... I’m a different man than I used to be.”

  “Different doesn’t necessarily mean worse.”

  They would never have like minds on the subject. “I wish you and Will had discussed your scheme with me before you acted. This woman you’ve brought here has her mind set on staying. She’s convinced our town will prove a fine setting in which to raise her young daughters.”

  “Is she not someone you can envision building a life with?”

  Noah tilted his head back and stared at the knotty branches and matte undersides of the leaves suspended from them.

  “I don’t believe we’d get along,” he said.

  “How do you figure?” One dark brow quirked up.

  “We have the bad habit of making assumptions about each other.”

  A stout, hairy man emerged from the hardware store across the street, a sack swinging from his right hand. He smiled when he saw them, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. “Howdy, Sheriff! Fine day to be alive, ain’t it?”

  Noah lifted a hand in acknowledgment, catching sight of the grin Daniel tried to hide.

  “I pin on a badge and suddenly folks feel it’s their duty to speak to me.” He scowled.

  “It’s a nice change from how things used to be. You started this town. No reason you shouldn’t interact with the grateful residents.”

  “We started this town. I’m happy to leave the mingling to you and Will.”

  “Back to the widow Miller. How did she react to your scars?”

  “Didn’t seem to mind. The girls, either.” He squinted at Daniel. “Don’t get that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The dopey one that makes you look like you’re seven,” he shot back, wondering where his anger had gone. Maybe if they’d meant it as a joke or as a way to hurt him, he could’ve nursed his ire. But it had been a misguided attempt to improve his life. “I’m not marrying Constance. In fact, I was on my way to the hotel to secure her a suite. Will’s largest and finest, as he’ll be footing the bill.”

  He started walking through the grass toward the dusty street. Daniel blocked his retreat.

  “Whoa. Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

  “It’s the logical choice.”

  “Tell me what she looks like,” the other man prodded. “Is she pretty?”

  “Pretty isn’t the right word. She’s like an exotic bloom that needs an awful lot of care and attention.”

  Daniel’s gaze intensified. “An exotic bloom, huh?”

  The tips of his ears burned. “Why does it matter?”

  “You don’t remember the crush of men at the train station the day Leah and the others arrived? The locals are starved for female companionship. If you put Mrs. Miller up at the Cattleman, she’ll be accosted by marriage-minded men, not all of them worthy of a woman’s hand.”

  “Not my problem.” Sidestepping him, Noah continued walking.

  “You’re refusing to marry her.” Daniel spoke to his back. “In doing so, you’re putting her and her daughters at risk. Do you not feel an ounce of responsibility toward them?”

  Noah halted, his gaze on the bustling traffic ahead—wagons, single riders and pedestrians. Clusters of crude, rowdy cowboys whistling and gesturing to Pippa Neely, one of the original mail-order brides and the town’s resident actress, as she traversed the boardwalk.

  Daniel came abreast of him. “It’d be a shame if she chose the wrong sort of man. You’d be forced to see the evidence of her poor choice for the rest of your life.”

  Noah ground his teeth. He couldn’t deny that if he found out she or the twins were being mistreated, he’d wind up locked
in a cell for beating the guy within an inch of his life. “There’s another possibility.”

  Settling his derby on his head, Daniel waited.

  “She might fancy a drover,” Noah pointed out. “She wouldn’t be sticking around then.”

  “That defeats our purpose. We want to grow Cowboy Creek, not provide brides for itinerant cowboys.”

  He threw up in his hands in frustration. “What do you propose I do?”

  “Allow her to stay at your place until the three of us—you, me and Will—help her make a wise and proper choice.”

  Noah snorted. “She’s not the sort of woman to be led about. Despite her helpless appearance, Constance knows her own mind.”

  “We won’t make her choice for her. We’ll simply be advising her on her suitors’ characters and reputations.”

  He closed his eyes, wishing he could rewind time a couple of days. “Fine,” he growled. “They can stay for the time being.”

  “Do you want Will and I there when you explain things?”

  “Oh, no. It’s best if you leave the explaining to me.”

  Chapter Six

  Noah had just finished brushing Samson down that evening when Jane skipped into the barn.

  “Hi, Wolfie,” she crooned, her dark sausage curls quivering. Skirts swishing, she marched past the wolf dog and over to where Noah was replacing the brush in the tack room. “Hi, Sheriff. Or should I call you Pa?”

  Pa? He spun around and peered down into her freckled face. It took a whole lot of effort not to gape at the pint-size child. “Uh, Sheriff will do for now.”

  How was it that her ma was frightened silly of his pet and this little squirt wasn’t fazed? And how come she wasn’t intimidated by him when a majority of the townsfolk had refused to interact with him prior to this sheriff gig?

  Jane considered this and nodded, her blue eyes twinkling. “Sheriff, Momma sent me in here to fetch you for supper.”

  “She did, huh?”

  “Yes, sir. We’re having ham, greens, pickled beets—” her nose scrunched on that one “—and more rolls like we had yesterday. Momma said that since you liked them, we should make them again.”

  “Is that so?” He strode to the entrance, and she hopped along beside him. Noah felt tongue-tied in her presence. He wasn’t used to seeing kids, much less engaging in conversation with one. “Did you make dessert?”

  She nodded emphatically. “Molasses cookies. Momma says there aren’t many supplies here, so we have to make do with what we have and be thankful for what the good Lord has provided.”

  Noah would have to rectify that if Constance agreed to his plan.

  “How’s Amelia today?”

  She tossed him an imperious look that put him in mind of her mother. “My sister’s name is Abigail.”

  “Oh, right.”

  Bursting into the cabin ahead of him, Jane announced his presence. He stopped on the threshold, jolted anew by the presence of other people. Every single day for several years he’d come home to an empty cabin and a quiet that at times had mocked his decision to be alone. Now it wasn’t empty or quiet, and he was having trouble adjusting.

  Constance was at the stove, flushed and beautifully disheveled, the fixings for their evening meal crowding the counter. Her hair was even messier this evening than last, and he wondered if she was missing Chicago already.

  His gaze slipped to the dark-haired, brown-eyed girl in the rocking chair beside the fireplace. Dressed in a ruffled nightgown, she sat with her legs tucked beneath her. Her loose hair hung in limp strands. She looked a lot less miserable than before, but she hadn’t lost her wariness of him. He shifted his stance and, whipping off his hat, held it against his chest. Words lodged in his throat. What would his fellow Union soldiers say if they knew he’d allowed a tiny child to fluster him?

  The tang of vinegary greens and salty meat hung in the air. In the center of his table sat a fresh batch of those rolls that melted like pillows of buttery goodness in his mouth. This was one aspect of having a wife that Noah could get used to really quick.

  Wiping her hands with a towel, Constance smoothed her hand over her hair and came around the counter, her deportment a testament to her social standing and privilege.

  “After our conversation last evening, I was expecting you earlier today.”

  Noah’s chest squeezed with a funny sort of wistfulness. No one had expected him home or cared what time he arrived for a very long time. No one had fixed particular dishes with him in mind, either.

  “Let’s speak outside.”

  Hanging his hat on the coat stand, he waited for her to follow. After instructing the girls to stay away from the hot stove, she joined him. He motioned to one of the rocking chairs. She sank into it, her skirts sighing into place, her head seeking rest against the slats.

  “I have a proposal to make.”

  Her head jerked back up.

  He held his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Not that kind of proposal.”

  Her honeyed gaze studied him a moment before sliding to the fields and grazing cattle.

  “You’re determined to stay in Cowboy Creek,” he said.

  “I am.”

  “And you’re not looking to marry for love.”

  Her disdainful expression aroused his curiosity. He’d assumed most females strove for that elusive emotion. “I thought that was what I was doing the first time I got married. I was proved wrong. All I want now is stability and security for my girls. I want someone who will be kind to them. Take an interest in their raising.”

  He recalled Jane’s prayer. “Did your husband treat them poorly? Or you?”

  “As you’re not to be my husband, I’m going to choose not to answer that.”

  Oddly disappointed, Noah paced to the nearest post and, lifting his arm, propped a hand against it. Constance had spoken of what her daughters needed, but what about her needs?

  Constance pushed out of the chair. “The food’s getting cold.” Maintaining her distance, she lifted her chin. “What is this proposal you mentioned?”

  “I think it’s best you remain here while searching for a husband.”

  Her winged brows swooped upward. “I thought you wanted me to stay in the hotel.”

  “Our town’s population is predominately male. We’re working to change that by bringing in bride trains, but we’ve a ways yet to go. A woman such as yourself will be inundated with a passel of prospective grooms.”

  “You mean a city woman with no knowledge of being a rancher’s wife?”

  His mouth grew dry. He wasn’t about to admit it was her beauty and grace that had him worried. “For these men, any woman of marriageable age will do.”

  Her sooty lashes swept down, but not before he glimpsed a despondency that made his scars burn as if they were fresh and raw. His assumption that the wealthy widow must be endowed with a healthy sense of self-worth had been wrong. Imagine that.

  He knew nothing about this woman. And he found himself wanting to know everything. A dangerous prospect.

  “Will, Daniel and I can help guide you in your decision. We know which men are dependable, hardworking and honorable, and which ones we wouldn’t trust to take care of a dog.”

  “We’ve determined you don’t want anything to do with me or my girls.” She stared at where their boots nearly touched. “Why do you care who we wind up with?”

  Because Daniel was right. While Noah had no part in bringing her here, he felt responsible for her. He wouldn’t know peace if she made a regrettable choice.

  “Just because I look like a stone-hearted beast doesn’t mean I lack sentiment. I would never forgive myself if you wound up with a man who mistreated you or the girls.”

  Her startled gaze whipped to his, her lower lip trembling. “I do
n’t think you look like a beast. Nor do I believe you’ve a heart of stone. You may have changed greatly from that man in the photograph, but the war and your injuries didn’t strip your humanity away.”

  Noah couldn’t speak. There was something in her voice and in her gaze that transported him back years, to the innocent, hopeful dreamer he had once been. A man with a bright future ahead of him. A man who’d counted on being a husband and father someday.

  “You’ve been snooping through my house?” He seized on the bitterness and anger that had been his faithful companions since the day he woke up in a field hospital. No way could he allow former dreams to live again. Love. Family. Intimacy. It wasn’t possible.

  She flinched. “No! I wouldn’t! The tintype is on the mantel, out there for anyone to see.”

  Noah turned away, rubbing the uneven flesh detectable beneath his shirt. Having her underfoot was going to be tougher than he’d thought. “I’ll fetch the tub and water for your baths.”

  “What about supper?”

  “I’ll eat later.” His stomach growled in defiance. “Make a list of everything you need. I’ll go to the mercantile first thing in the morning.”

  Walking away was difficult when his conscience was insisting he apologize.

  * * *

  Shaking with emotion, Grace watched him disappear into the barn. She couldn’t decide if she’d rather shake him, slap him or hold him. The man infuriated her. Snooping through his house... Honestly? But he also struck a chord of compassion deep inside.

  The man was as prickly as a cactus. While his behavior screamed stay away, his pure blue eyes told another story. Loneliness stalked him, devouring him from the inside out. When was the last time someone held his hand? Hugged him? Kissed his cheek?

  Her first instinct had been to call after him that she hadn’t agreed to stay. As always, the danger Frank posed directed her actions. Staying here with the sheriff, all the while knowing she was a burden, was not ideal. It would be safer here than at a public hotel, however. Her brother-in-law wasn’t one to give up without a fight. When Frank Longstreet wanted something, he went after it with cold-blooded ruthlessness. The hunt thrilled him. More than once through the years, she’d seen him set his sights on unavailable women. Engaged women. Married women. He employed his charming assault, wearing them down until he triumphed and then casting them aside, uncaring that their lives and reputations were wrecked.