Bought by the Lone Cowboy

by E. Walsh

  If he were to inherit the family riches, he needed to do but one thing.

  Marry a woman and have a child with her.

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Lucrecia sat with her only friend in New York City, a harlot named Morgan who was trying to con a few more pennies from passersby and strangers. Lucrecia couldn’t remember for the life of her how she had come across Morgan and ended up her best friend, but it was the greatest thing to ever happen to her. They were in a park, seated on an uncomfortable bench that was nearly soaked with bird droppings. Lucrecia made sure not to lean her back against it, and sat where it was cleanest, but Morgan had no care. For a harlot, she wasn’t the cleanest of people.

  Lucrecia could see Morgan’s eyes darting between the men and the women, trying to find a man who was available. The women she only looked at to stew over how envious she was of their good fortune. Lucrecia didn’t blame her; she longed to be the person who could wear clothing like that and not stick out like a sore thumb. Morgan swiped her thumb over her tongue, and turned a page in the newspaper she was reading. A cackle erupted from her throat, drawing the attention of a few onlookers.

  “You won’t believe this,” Morgan scoffed, though she bore a large grin. No doubt it was something grim, she was the type of person to take pleasure in a badly written obituary. “I can’t believe some people would actually fall for this load of malarkey,” she muttered. With a flick of the pages to straighten them out, Morgan offered the words for Lucrecia to see.

  Lucrecia glanced over at the words, not taking too long to actually read what was being said. She hated the paper that Morgan read, it was all lies and slander.

  However, the words that Morgan were pointing to with a painted nail caught her eye in a flash. It was under a section labeled Matrimonial News. The usual was there, the announcement of weddings and of engagement parties. A few hush-hush divorces that might have not even been true.

  “What’s so funny?” Lucrecia asked as the scanned the paper.

  “Just look at this!” Morgan insisted. She clarified her pointing, directed at the pictures of young men. Some were handsome, some were ugly and crippled. “These poor saps are looking for wives!” she exclaimed.

  Lucrecia’s eyes widened just slightly. The pictures were in no particular order, but she couldn’t help but think that she knew the man in the first picture. He was in his mid-twenties, and sporting the looks of a man who could be a politician somewhere.

  “This is absolutely incredible!”

  Lucrecia rolled her eyes at Morgan. She was at it again, making fun of other people for her own amusement. Though she tried to hide it, a spark of interest had flared up deep within her belly. She strained her eyes to read the words without being too obvious. These men were offering to pay a woman’s way to where they lived. Some were from the South, others from places far to the west that Lucrecia had never heard of.

  “I can’t believe something like this exists,” Lucrecia muttered.

  “They’re just too desperate,” Morgan said, as though it were obvious.

  “I can’t believe that you would call someone too desperate, Morgan,” Lucrecia teased. “You do know that you’re willing to sell your body for a few extra pennies?”

  Morgan scoffed. She didn’t like to talk about it all that often, and it led to Lucrecia winning more than just one argument. It was the best way to put Morgan’s hypocrisy to an end, even if just for a few seconds. Lucrecia worried at her lower lip between her teeth, staring at the man who had caught her attention the first time. What were the chances that the picture wasn’t true at all? What if an offer like this got her killed?

  “I wonder if those are their real pictures,” Lucrecia mused.

  “Why do you care about that?” Morgan asked. “You know that this can’t be true, right? And if it is, they’re horrible men. Why can’t they get a wife where they live, huh?”

  “Morgan, have you ever thought that maybe they don’t like any of the women from where they live?” Lucrecia asked. “Maybe there aren’t any women.”

  “Lucrecia, you listen to me now,” Morgan demanded, her eyes going cold. “You cannot afford to do something like this. They could hurt you, they could kill you? Do you want to get out of New York so badly that you would risk your very life?”

  “I don’t think I would be killed,” Lucrecia replied. “Besides, if they only want me there to look nice and maybe fix a few meals, I can do that easily.”

  “You’re not exactly wife material,” Morgan teased.

  Lucrecia smiled, knowing that it was true. She had nothing to offer a husband, not even a meager dowry for bringing her halfway across the country in a train.

  “I won’t do it,” Lucrecia assured. “There’s no point in getting worked up over all of this, I was just thinking aloud,” she said. “Why would I want to leave you for?”

  Morgan’s worried expression gradually faded into a smile. She let out a terse sigh and leaned back against the framework of the bench. Lucrecia curled her nose, but didn’t say anything about it. Willing to let the topic drop, Morgan continued to pore through her newspaper. Lucrecia’s attention, however, was locked somewhere far away. In her mind’s eye, she could still see the handsome young man. Without making a sound, she tested his name in place of hers, just to see if it could end up working out.

  Lucrecia Fausto.

  She found herself smiling. Mrs. Lucrecia Fausto. She liked the powerful ring that it had to it. She liked the entire prospect, if she were being honest.

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  After the first letter that Fausto received from a would-be bride, he took her offer immediately. He had no idea if it was a scam, but no doubt those same thoughts were in her head as well. Fausto knew it all looked suspicious, a wealth, influential man like himself unable to find a bride. Out in the middle of Montana, there weren’t many women that were looking.

  There were a few scattered throughout the city that their racing track was located in, but most of them were already married women. Their husbands had dragged them along in an attempt to strike it rich with the new businesses and the new profits that were rising up seemingly out of thin air.

  Fausto couldn’t blame them. After all, that was exactly what his father had done, and he and his brother had inherited that opulence. Any man who didn’t try to be like them was an idiot, and was doomed to be no more than a poor farmer for the rest of his life.

  Fausto sneered at the thought. He was lucky that his father had been such a profitable man.

  He sat on a bench in the train station, glancing at his pocket watch every few minutes. He had no idea when the train was set to arrive that would carry his bride to him, but it needed to be sooner. The sooner that a woman arrived, the sooner he would be able to take what was rightfully his from his stupid father.

  Nolan was at their father’s bedside as he waited for his bride, the old man rumored to have no more than a few hours left. Fausto couldn’t help but roll his eyes. If he had a dollar for every time that had been said to them by the doctors, he wouldn’t need to be trying so hard to earn his inheritance. Fausto knew the impression that he was making upon Nolan, and he knew the impression that Nolan had had of him since their mid-teenage years.

  It didn’t matter to him.

  Nothing mattered to him anymore.

  A train station guard walked by, and Fausto stood to catch his attention.

  “Excuse me, sir,” he said, although there was no need to call the man sir. There was deference to him simply for being who he was. “When will the train be arriving?” he asked.

  “Within the hour, Mr. Redman,” the man replied. He dipped his head, and excused himself from the conversation.

  With nothing better to do with his time, Fausto sat back down on the bench. He crossed his arms and stared at where the train would be coming from in no time, as if his will alone would force it to move faster than it already was. He hoped that the girl he had bought a
very expensive train ticket for was actually on her way. He hoped that she was pretty. The last thing he needed was an ugly wife and child.

  *****

  At half past the hour, a man came from the front of the train and through the box cars. He tapped on Lucrecia’s window, and when she allowed him entrance, he merely slid the door open six inches.

  “You’re getting off in Montana, correct?” he asked, a friendly smile on his face.

  There was something in Lucrecia that wanted to say no. How would they know any better if she was getting off in Montana or not? She might have been better off saying that no, she was going to California to join her husband who was a gold miner.

  Instead, she nodded and smiled back at the man.

  “Yes, that’s my stop,” she agreed.

  “We will be there within a few moments, miss. If you’ll please gather up your things, someone will be here when the train stops to help you disembark and get on your way,” he said.

  “Thank you very much,” Lucrecia said, and nodded again.

  The man shut her door after that, and continued on his way down the train, looking for everyone else who was meant to get off on the Montana train station. Lucrecia felt a sigh go through her as she watched the world speed by through the window to her right. She had noticed for a while now that things had been moving slower, and that the train would soon be coming to a stop.

  She had never once been on a train before, but she hadn’t expected it to be half as painful as it was. After two weeks of being in the same seat, whether she was stretched out or sitting up, it was an uncomfortable time. Certainly the room was plush, her would-be husband hadn’t spared a single penny in expenses, but it wasn’t anything like sleeping in a real bed and having real food every day.

  Only a few minutes later and the train lurched, Lucrecia reaching out and grabbing one of the gold-plated bars for support. As the train slid into the station, she looked through the crowd to try and spot this Fausto Redman. She couldn’t recognize him among the sea of faces, all looking for loved ones and family members.

  “Miss, are you ready to depart?” a man asked, tapping on the door to her box.

  Lucrecia nodded, and stood up. The man entered then, and took all of her things from the upper compartments of the box.

  “Are you happy to be back home?” he asked.

  Lucrecia could have laughed. This wasn’t her home, and she wasn’t sure if it would ever be her home. She had just wanted to leave New York. Although now, looking out at the train station and the plain town past that, she wasn’t sure if it had been the best idea that she had ever had. She didn’t reply to the man, instead following him out of the car and off the train, where she was to wait with him until her escort arrived to take her home.

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Fausto wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from this Lucrecia woman, but when she stepped off the train with an escort by her side, he was pleasantly surprised. He took her in, nearly leering at her from the way that he looked her up and down. He examined each detail of her, making sure that she was absolutely perfect. He wouldn’t tolerate any less from his soon to be wife.

  He stood from his bench, and walked over to the two of them. Lucrecia was dressed in the finest outfit that she had, her head topped with a stylish and trendy, if ostentatious hat. Fausto smiled at the two of them, and dipped his head to her escort. He was someone employed by the train station, no doubt.

  “You must be Lucrecia,” he said, offering his hand to her.

  Lucrecia looked down at Fausto’s hand, her eyes going wide as though she had never been offered a hand in her life. Warily, she extended her hand, and gasped when Fausto took her fingers and lifted them to his lips.

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” he lied, laying the lies and the charm on as thickly as he could. He would need to do whatever it was that he could to join them as soon as possible.

  “Your husband?” the escort asked, looking between Lucrecia and Fausto.

  “Soon to be,” Lucrecia replied with a little smile. Fausto had dropped her hand by then, and she held it close to her chest. She’d never once been treated to specially, let alone by a man that she had never met before.

  “Are you alright if I leave you alone?” the man asked. Lucrecia nodded, and he took his leave back onto the train.

  Trapped in the silence, Lucrecia stared up at Fausto, her eyes wide like a doe’s. He liked the charm of it, and stepped forward to put his hand against her cheek. She wore no makeup, and in a way it made her even more beautiful.

  “You’re prettier than I ever could have thought,” he said, although on the inside he felt himself sneer and draw back from the words. “I never could have imagined a girl like you coming so far to meet someone like me.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought it possible myself,” Lucrecia replied, her heart pounding. She could hardly believe how absolutely perfect that Fausto was.

  His picture certainly didn’t do him the justice that he deserved. Up close and personal with him, it was as though Lucrecia were looking at an entirely new person. Fausto was handsome and gorgeous, and had all of the mannerisms of a true gentleman. He held himself proudly, with his shoulders back and his chin held high.

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” Lucrecia said.

  Fausto smiled at her, a big sweeping grin, and she could have swooned on the spot. Were it not for Fausto taking her arm and pulling her close against his body, he might have done just that. Her suitcases were taken by another man working at the station, and hauled out to the coach that Fausto had driven to the station.

  “I figure that on your first night here, what you would want to do is familiarize yourself before anything else,” he began. “It’s a lot of new territory to take in, and I won’t blame you if you find yourself overwhelmed. It is an easy thing to do when concerning a place like Montana.”

  Lucrecia nodded as she listened to Fausto speak. She could have listened to him speak all day long if it were u to her. His voice was like pure melted chocolate, drizzling and dripping in a steady flow that permeated each of her pores and sunk into her body like a drug. It was a voice she imagined an angel to have, light but with heady undertones that spoke of power and confidence.

  “You’ll have to meet my family as well,” he said, although he didn’t like the idea at all. If it were up to him, he and Lucrecia would stay isolated from them at all times if his life depended on it. His situation was not so drastic, but to ease his father’s parting he ought to introduce the man to his

  “That sounds lovely,” Lucrecia said with a smile.

  “And of course, as I said in my letter to you, I will be leaving for a week or two after we are married. I must return to New York, coincidentally the city that you just came from, and meet with several stockholders. There are some that are being demanding, but are not providing enough in return. But away with those thoughts, I’m sure they would only bore you,” Fausto said.

  Lucrecia nodded, even if she felt the exact opposite. Fausto opened the coach door for her, and she piled herself and all of her clothing into it with a bit of difficulty. It was hard for her to even think of telling Fausto that she was an educated woman. She would have loved to hear about his stocks and about his company, but she put the thought aside.

  As the coach kicked into gear and Fausto began driving through the streets at a leisurely pace, Lucrecia watched again as the world flew by her without giving her a second to appreciate all of its glory.

  No matter how she might have liked to talk to Fausto, she knew that she would only bother him. She was there to be his wife, not his conversation partner. He certainly had many gentlemen friends that could attend to that need.

  Resigned to her post, Lucrecia folded her hands in her lap and tried not to let her brewing emotions get the better of her. She would be Fausto’s dutiful and beautiful wife even if it cost her freedom and her independence. After all, it was what she had signed up to do.

  It
was the whole reason that she had left everything behind.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  Within another hour, Lucrecia and Fausto arrived at the hospital. It was the only towering building in the city, and it in fact was farther out than any other building. It was surrounded by rolling plains, and beautiful crops of land that were cultivated to feed the city. Lucrecia smiled as she looked out at it, admiring the way that the stalks of wheat and corn bent in the wind, bowing their heads individually as if to greet her formally to the land.

  Fausto hadn’t spoken a word to her for the entire trip. It had been long and tiresome, especially after spending so long on a train and only just getting off of it. Lucrecia, however, refused to make a peep. She acted the way that Morgan would, polite with all of her gentlemanly company. She never said a word to them unless that was what they wanted of her. Lucrecia could do the same.

  The hospital grew in size as they approached it, looming over them and the coach. Fausto pulled into an area designated for coaches, and then turned to Lucrecia once he had turned the giant machine off.

  “My father is a sickly man,” Fausto said, “and my brother Nolan will be there as well. They may not even speak to you, and I would prefer if you stayed the way that you have been the entire trip. I like that you know when to speak,” he said, his smile returning.

  Lucrecia allowed herself to smile back at him. “I know how to mind my manners,” she said. “I promise not to let you down, Fausto,” she agreed.

  Fausto grinned once more at that, and gave Lucrecia a quick pat to her cheek. It was hardly more than a little tap, but the contact was welcomed nonetheless. Fausto exited the coach, and opened the door to her side of it once more. Lucrecia stepped out with his help, and together the two of them entered the hospital.