A Mail-Order Christmas Bride

by Livia J. Washburn

  She stiffened.

  “Ma’am,” Townsend said quietly. “No matter the reasoning here—‘convenience’ or not—it’s my advice that you take Mr. Taylor up on his offer. Marry him now for appearances’ sake.” His eyes were serious. “The man I spoke of calls himself Mr. Singleton. He’s sitting at the back of the room—no, don’t look. No doubt, he’s been watching us talk. I can tell you, he means business.”

  Melanie shivered. She really had no choice, but she was humiliated beyond words. Rocky would be marrying her as a favor, to protect her, acting totally against his wishes—as he’d told her.

  But…an annulment could be gotten, just as he’d said, once she was safe…if she ever was.

  She shivered again, lost in her thoughts of the fury her stepfather must have felt when he discovered her gone. It was all she could do not to turn and look at “Mr. Singleton” at the back of the room.

  “Melanie?” Rocky asked quietly.

  She looked up at him. Concern was etched in his face, but the warmth in his dark eyes was unmistakable. No matter what, Rocky Taylor was a good man. He would do the right thing—of that, she was certain.

  She gave a nod, moistening her dry lips. “Yes. Yes, but Rocky—”

  “No ‘buts’, Mel. Let’s do it now. If my name will protect you, I want to do it.”

  Her heart fell at his words. Though he’d meant what he said as comfort, Melanie realized she had been hoping for so much more—and she was instantly angry at herself.

  You have no right. You just met him. You don’t even know him…not really.

  Oh, if only things had been real! The letters he supposedly wrote; the true proposal of marriage…

  “Yes,” she managed to agree in a low voice.

  The reverend asked the people sitting nearby if they would mind witnessing a marriage…Yes? He took a sip of water the waitress brought to the table, and began.

  Rocky and Melanie said their vows quietly, and Rocky reached for her hand when she started at a burst of raucous laughter from the table behind theirs.

  The ceremony was over in a matter of minutes. “Before the cornbread cooled,” Reverend Townsend quipped. He asked the witnesses, a couple at his left side and a couple at Melanie’s right across the table from him, to remain quiet about witnessing the wedding. They readily agreed, as Rocky explained they were on their way home for Christmas to get married there.

  “I will write your marriage certificate after supper and deliver it to your room,” Townsend assured Rocky.

  Rocky nodded. “Thanks, Reverend, for everything.”

  The preacher smiled.”You’re welcome. I just hope this Mr. Singleton will give up the chase and go home to West Virginia.” He peered closely at Melanie. “That’s where you’re from?”

  “Yes. Near Wheeling.”

  “There’s no doubt, then, that he’s after you. That part of the story lines up with what he said, as well.”

  Rocky nodded and stood, holding out a hand to Melanie.

  She hesitated an instant, then took it. The warmth of his fingers was welcome and reassuring. She rose to stand beside him, thanking the reverend as Rocky put his arm around her waist.

  The faces were a blur as Rocky led her through the dining room. Try as she might, she could not keep from looking at one face that stood out from the passing crowd…

  Steel-gray eyes bored into hers, making her stop, off balance, for an instant. Thin lips hardened to a straight line. Wispy, pale hair stood up in spikes and tufts around the man’s angular face.

  Not her stepfather.

  A man even more cruel than Stuart Whitworth…his henchman, Horatio Kennedy. A vile demon, Kennedy did whatever Whitworth asked of him—and more, Melanie was certain. His bold eyes gripped her in their steely depths, as firmly as any bars could hold a prisoner.

  With no words spoken, he promised her that her worst fears would soon be reality, and that he would exact his own retribution for being forced out to chase her on this cross-country flight.

  She shuddered, but Rocky’s fingers tightened around hers, and he met Kennedy’s icy stare with one of his own. He didn’t try to hurry Melanie along. Instead, he locked eyes with Kennedy and didn’t move until Kennedy lifted his glass in silent salute, then looked away.

  Only then did Rocky take a step more toward the hallway, never letting go of Melanie’s fingers.

  Once they were inside their room, he enfolded her in his arms, pulling her close to stop her trembling.

  “That your stepfather, Mel?”

  “N-no…even worse. His man, Horatio Kennedy.”

  Rocky gave a short laugh.

  Melanie pulled back and looked up at him. “I assure you, he is no laughing matter, Rockford Taylor!”

  “Shh…okay. I—didn’t mean to make light of this.”

  “And if you’re trying to allay my fears—well…it can’t be done,” she sniffed. “Not by a laugh and a dismissal—”

  “How about this?” Rocky pulled her back into his strong embrace. His chest was like a stone wall. His arms locked her inside his fortress as they came around her. He lowered his head, his lips skimming hers in a light caress.

  She melted against him, her mouth opening under his, inviting him to deepen the kiss. A soft sigh escaped her, and Rocky groaned. He lifted his mouth from hers and muttered, “Melanie, trust me. I will keep you safe.”

  She nodded, trying to read the emotions in his eyes. But how could she discern what he tried to keep to himself from what she hoped to glimpse? It was impossible.

  Just then, a knock sounded and she jumped. Rocky hugged her to him quickly, then crossed the room to open the door.

  Reverend Townsend stood in the hallway, a pen, ink, and a piece of paper in his hand. “The ink is barely dry, but I wanted to get this to you as quickly as possible.” He handed it to Rocky. “Just need your signatures.”

  “Will you come in?” Melanie asked.

  “Oh, no. I’m sure you two have a lot to discuss.” His face reddened, and he added, “Among other things, of course…”

  “Reverend, thanks for this.”

  “You’re welcome, Deputy. I’ve made a copy for my own records, but you’ll need to sign the original—”

  “Sure…” Rocky laid the certificate on the night table and took the pen in hand, dipping it in the pot of ink and signing quickly.

  He handed the pen to Melanie. She carefully dipped the pen, then signed Melanie Elaine duBois Taylor, letting the paper lie where it was when she had finished.

  She re-capped the ink and carefully handed the pen and pot back to the reverend. He took it from her with a smile and a nod.

  “I’ll get this registered when I head back to Sallisaw.” He shrugged apologetically. “It’s the nearest civilization in the area with a courthouse.”

  Rocky put his hand out and the preacher shook it.

  “Be careful, Deputy. Our Mr. Singleton is a serpent.”

  “We’ll take care, Reverend.”

  Townsend looked at Melanie, then walked away. Rocky shut the door and bolted it. After a moment of silence, Melanie sat on the side of the bed. How could this be happening now? Was nothing ever going to go right?

  Even worse, she had now put Rocky in harm’s way because of his association with her.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  She looked up into his dark eyes, then patted the bed. “Sit down.”

  He grinned, sitting beside her. “I was going to ask if you trusted me, but I think I just got my answer. I’m sure you don’t invite everyone to sit on the bed with you.”

  She gave him a fleeting smile.

  “Melanie, I don’t expect anything from you tonight. Well…except to be able to sleep on the bed with you.”

  She nodded, not smiling at his teasing.

  He took her hand in his. “We’ll figure this out.” He hesitated. “Do you know a man by the name of Mike Ferguson?”

  Her brow wrinkled, th
en she shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t. Why?

  “I had suspected he might have had something to do with all this,” he said, squeezing her fingers gently.

  “Who is he?”

  Rocky sighed. “Long story.”

  “Rocky—”

  “I want you—”

  They both broke off, and Melanie tried to ignore the fact that Rocky had said he wanted her—even unintentionally. Silence stretched into awkwardness.

  “We seem to be doing that a lot lately—talking at the same time,” Rocky muttered.

  “You want me to…” Melanie said slowly.

  “I was going to say, I want you to try not to worry so much. We’ll have to get an early start in the morning if we’re to travel with the coach—”

  “Travel with them?” Melanie snatched her hand back. “With Horatio Kennedy?”

  “Yes,” Rocky said firmly. “I intend to know right where he is every minute of the day.”

  “But…don’t you believe he might try something?”

  “Yes. I do. And that’s why I want to know where he is—so I can keep an eye on him.” He stood up. “Look, Mel. The man is here—whether he rides ahead of us, behind us, or ambushes us. I have to minimize his ability to do anything surprising.”

  She nodded, her eyes unseeing. “Yes, of course.”

  “We’ll both rest easier once we get to the Lazy T.”

  “Yes.”

  He reached to take her hand again, pulling her up from the bed and into his arms as they stood.

  “We’ll sort this out, I promise. But for tonight, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow morning will be here before you know it.”

  ****

  Well, dammit. Melanie allowed herself a curse as she lay on her side of the bed, fully-clothed, of course. She trusted Rockford Taylor. Her earliest instincts about his character had proven out. He had been nothing but kind—even to the point of renting that carriage for her, and driving her to his and Kevin’s ranch—which he certainly did not have to do. And taking the very unexpected step of—of marrying her… although he didn’t know her at all, and he had completely sworn off marriage after his first fiasco with “true love”. She imagined he must have been young…he seemed so worldly and wise to her, now. And she supposed, that must be because he was older than she. And he’d been on his own—along with his brother.

  A swell of longing rose up in her breast when she thought of her own brother, Tony, and how she missed him. If he’d come back from the war, none of this would have happened—Mama would still be living. And instead of this headlong flight southwest from the hills of West Virginia, Melanie herself would not be living in fear and wondering what each passing day would bring to her.

  She counted herself fortunate that Rocky Taylor was such a kind-hearted man. That he’d cared enough for a total stranger, as she was to him, to look out for her. Even after she’d given him the biggest shock he’d probably ever had by announcing her intention to marry the moment she’d met him.

  Who was behind all this? It didn’t make sense…none of it…

  Sleep began to overcome her, her mind still awhirl as she tried to come up with an idea of who may have planned this. She couldn’t be angry. It had been a good thing, to get away from her stepfather, even for the short time she had done so during her escape. And maybe—just maybe, something would work out for her. She had to hope. That was all she had left.

  ****

  In the darkness, Rocky felt Melanie shiver. Their room had a small fireplace, and he rose to put another log on the fire. It had burned down to glowing coals, and as he carefully laid the log on top, a shower of embers surged up, like fireworks.

  The room was cold, or at least, the bed was—positioned as it was on the far wall. Maybe building up the fire some would help. He padded back in stocking feet across the floor.

  Laying a hand on Melanie’s shoulder, he gave her a light shake. She sat up instantly, a scream hovering. Quickly, he covered her mouth with his own, felt her stiffen, then pull him down closer to her.

  He lifted his head, his heart thundering. “Mel—”

  “Come back to bed.”

  He smiled. “I will. Let’s turn it back. It’s too cold in here without using the covers. That’s why I woke you.”

  She glanced at the fireplace.

  “I just put more wood on. It’s just—the bed’s so far away.”

  She nodded and stood up as Rocky walked around to his side. They turned the covers back and lay down, pulling the quilts over them.

  Rocky turned to face Melanie. She shivered, and he laughed. “Come here. I’ll keep you warm.”

  “But—”

  “My word, Melanie. I gave my word to protect you. I won’t do anything to—”

  “Not even a kiss?”

  He gave her a slow grin in the glow of the firelight. “You sound disappointed.”

  She glanced away. “I just wondered.”

  “Kisses lead to—other things. Things we aren’t sure we want to—pledge to one another yet.”

  But without the slightest warning, Rocky felt the fetters slip away from his heart completely. Whatever spell Eleanor had cast when she’d left him—it was now gone. He was free of the pain, the humiliation, even the guilt he’d felt at not being able to give his wife what she’d needed from him to keep her happy. To keep her there.

  Melanie moved into his arms and snuggled close to him, trying to soak in his warmth. She molded herself close to him. His arms tightened around her.

  “I know this isn’t proper or ladylike, but I’m just so cold—”

  “Mm…don’t worry, we’re married. It’s perfectly proper.”

  “You are so…warm.” Her words were muffled as she spoke into his neck.

  He smiled in the darkness as she burrowed closer. “Put your hands inside my shirt,” he murmured as her fingers skimmed his cheek.

  “I’ll freeze you. My fingers are like icicles.”

  He laughed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll get them warmed up soon enough.” He reached to unbutton his shirt and she laid her palms against his chest, the cotton longjohns separating their skin-to-skin touch.

  He felt her relax against him. “Marriage might not be so bad for you, Mrs. Taylor. At least, you’ll be warm during these winter months.”

  But when Melanie raised her blue eyes to his, there was no laughter there.

  “I’ve never thought marriage to you would be anything but wonderful, Rocky. You’re a good man, a kind man. You’ve taken care of me from the moment we met—done so much more than you—than you had to do. If I didn’t know better, I might believe in love between us…just a little.”

  “Mel—” His heart was full. If she knew how much he’d let himself care for her…It scared him. He wasn’t used to caring—that hadn’t happened for a very long time…for years…and when it ended, it had hurt.

  Melanie leaned up and brought her mouth close to his. In her eyes, he saw the instant she decided to take a leap of faith—with him. Her lips brushed his in a hesitant invitation he couldn’t resist.

  Where would this night lead? Suddenly, through a strange twist of Fate, it was his decision to choose a future for himself—and for Melanie. Would he be able to make a lifetime commitment to her—or would he allow Eleanor’s rejection to shape the rest of his life?

  Melanie rolled, still kissing him, and he settled himself atop her warm curves.

  He framed her lovely face with both of his hands, her skin silky beneath his touch. Lifting his mouth from hers, he gazed down into her eyes.

  “Is this the ‘other things’ you spoke of earlier? Those things we might not be ready to commit to yet?”

  Rocky smiled at her breathless question.

  “We’re at the edge of the cliff, Mel. Are you ready to jump?”

  She ran her hands up his arms. “Yes. Oh, yes. But…you…you know, I won’t let you go if I give myself to you tonight in our marriage bed.”

  He chuckled. “That’s
part of this deal, isn’t it? Not leaving one another. Standing by each other, no matter what. Isn’t that what love is?”

  “Is…that what we have? Love?”

  The hopeful note in her voice went straight to his heart. It was what she yearned for. She’d been looking forward to starting a new life with a man she didn’t know. Probably imagined all kinds of things…and now, here they were on a wedding night neither of them could have foreseen under these circumstances.

  “Even a small bit—” she whispered.

  Yes. More than a small bit. He guided her hands to his denims placket, and her fingers began to work the buttons. He sought the buttons at the front of her dress.

  “Let me show you,” he whispered.

  ****

  Melanie awoke in Rocky’s arms. The early morning gray of the December dawn filtered around the curtain over the small window. A smile curved her lips. Last night had been…wonderful.

  Rocky’s fingers stroked the back of her head, holding her close.

  “Are you awake?” she whispered, knowing he was—but suddenly shy.

  “I have been for a while.”

  She drew back to look at him. “Did I—was I snoring?” she asked, in horrified wonder.

  He laughed. “No, sweetheart. I just wanted to watch you sleep.”

  She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. Silly, to be embarrassed over a possible snore or two after the things they’d done and shared together during the night.

  Her heart thundered suddenly at the memories. Could he hear? He rolled over to come atop her once more, his mouth claiming hers.

  She arched beneath him, but he reluctantly pulled away, caressing her cheek with gentle care. From outside the door, there was movement in the hallway, and from farther away, the sound of dishes rattling.

  “We need to get moving,” he said, reluctance in his tone.

  She smiled up at him, then sobered. “What will we do about Mr. Kennedy?”

  He bent and kissed her lingeringly. “You leave him to me.”

  “I wish I had a gun.”

  Rocky rose. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ve got one you can carry. Know how to use it?”

  “Of course. Papa used to take me with him sometimes when he and Tony went hunting. I—I never killed anything. I just couldn’t.”