Lassoing A Mail-Order Bride

by Cheryl Pierson

  Rema cowered on the porch steps, and as Johnny made his way through the house, he could hear Gabby already comforting her—and other voices in the distance.

  The posse, he reckoned. A bit late to provide any help other than carting Bowling’s carcass back to town for the undertaker to deal with.

  He stood, for a moment, over Bowling’s corpse. It was not the first man he’d ever killed, but he doubted he’d ever get used to it—the taste of fear in his mouth, the haunting dread that he’d be too slow on the trigger, and having to cope with it—if he wasn’t. He holstered the Navy Colt.

  “Johnny, you’re hurt!”

  Gabby’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, back into the world of the living, the feeling, the sharp pain he was suddenly aware of in his shoulder. He took a deep steadying breath, and then another. “Yeah…I had to hold back a second too long to be sure Rema was clear. But…but it’s over now.”

  In the next instant, she was beside him as he leaned against the door frame for support.

  “Oh, darling, we’ve got to get you home—” Her hand cupped his cheek.

  “Johnny, if you can manage to get in the saddle, I’ll get you back to your place quick,” Sam told him, riding up near the porch steps.

  “Much obliged, Sam,” Johnny answered tightly. “Give me a minute—want to make sure all’s well with Barry before I go.”

  Sheriff Barry England dismounted from nearby and came up onto the porch, quickly examining Bowling’s corpse. He gave Johnny a nod.

  “That was some shot, Rainbolt.”

  There had never been any love lost between Johnny and the Sheriff, but it occurred to Johnny that Sheriff England was letting him understand, with grudging admiration, that on this, they agreed.

  Johnny nodded. “No choice. I protect what’s mine.”

  Sheriff England stood. “You better go on home, get that shoulder seen to. I’ll have one of the men ride back and tell Doc to get over to your place, and have Luke Jakes bring your wagon on home for you. We’ll finish up here.”

  Johnny glanced at Gabby, who stood staring up at him with wide, worried eyes. He gave her a faint smile, and some of the tension faded. “Where’s Monty?”

  She nodded toward the front yard. “Looks like he decided it was safe to come on out, now that everyone’s here.” She grimaced. “Even though I told him to stay hidden. Seems stubbornness runs in the family.”

  Johnny followed Gabby’s gaze to the open yard where Monty had a five-year-old protective arm around his little sister. Together, they started toward Johnny and Gabby.

  Johnny immediately took a step forward, out of the cabin, away from the smell of death and blood that filled the air of the enclosed space. The kids didn’t need to see Bowling’s dead body.

  “Pa, you’re bleeding!” Monty proclaimed.

  Johnny nodded. “I’ll be all right, Monty. You’ll see, son.” He reached down to tousle the dark mop of hair. Rema put her arms up to Johnny, but Gabby quickly stepped toward her and lifted her, hugging her close.

  Johnny watched silently, then, when he thought he could manage it, he took the three porch steps down to the ground turning to give Gabby his hand.

  “You never know how much you love something until it’s almost lost to you,” he murmured.

  She smiled at him, then teased, “I think that your wound has you talking out of your mind, Johnny Rainbolt. You must be dreaming.” She cocked her head. “Are you sure you know me well enough to speak to me like this?” A smile tugged at her lips.

  He shook his head. He loved her. And he wanted her to know it. He’d never been more certain of anything in this world. She’d taken such a chance to save Rema, declared another woman’s child—an Indian child—to be her own. And Johnny had no doubt she’d have done the same for any of them, including him.

  “Oh, I’m out of my head all right. I’m crazy in love with you, Gabrielle Eugenie Mason Rainbolt. Seems we’ve lived a hundred years in the last couple of weeks.” He leaned forward to graze her lips with his. “And you’re my dream, lady…a dream that will never end, no matter what rough beginnings we’ve had.” He looked down at her with a little uncertainty. “I can only hope—”

  She pulled him to her carefully and kissed him, long and hot and hard…and in a very unladylike fashion for such a public place. “You’re everything to me, Johnny,” she whispered. “I couldn’t love you more.”

  “Let’s head on home,” he said, a raspy edge to his voice.

  She smiled at him, her heart in her eyes. “Home. Nothing ever sounded better.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR—CHERYL PIERSON

  Cheryl Pierson, a native Oklahoman, lives in the Oklahoma City metro area with her husband. Her short stories have been published by Prairie Rose Publications, Western Fictioneers, Adams Media, Chicken Soup, and Western Trail Blazer. She has six novels to her credit, FIRE EYES, TIME PLAINS DRIFTER, THE HALF-BREED’S WOMAN, and GABRIEL’S LAW (PRP); SWEET DANGER (Publishing by Rebecca J. Vickery), and TEMPTATION’S TOUCH, (The Wild Rose Press).

  Recently, she and long-time friend Livia Reasoner, opened PRAIRIE ROSE PUBLICATIONS, a publishing house that furthers the western-themed writing offerings of women. www.prairierosepublications.com

  Cheryl is currently serving a 2-year term as President of the Western Fictioneers. To learn more about Cheryl and her exciting books, visit her atwww.cherylpierson.com You can e-mail her at prairierosepublications@yahoo.com

  HER HURRY-UP HUSBAND

  Tanya Hanson

  A beautiful socialite needs a husband fast—for just one month—but the rancher wants a wife for life!

  Chapter One

  “Mama has fainted again.” Elspeth rolled her eyes and pointed toward the sitting room.

  She swallowed a giggle, not wanting to seem disrespectful. However, Mama was puffed all over the settee like a large lump of bread dough.

  “I should say it’s more her medicinal brandy.” Judith strolled into the parlor from her breakfast. “A fairly reasonable behavior, I’m sure. Considering you abandoned your bridegroom at the altar three days ago. Oh, the disgrace.”

  Her sister glared, but Elspeth knew better. Judith loved excitement. As for Mama’s displeasure, well, she was a fixture in Omaha society and found fault with everything.

  Heat simmered beneath Elspeth’s rose silk dress. “I did not leave Carmichael at any altar, Judy.” Her fingers clenched. “I sent him a gently-worded message early that morning. If he showed up at the church in his wedding finery, in front of his fancy friends, more the fool he.” Relaxing her hands, she reached for a petit four meant for the wedding reception that hadn’t happened.

  Judith came closer, blue eyes wide as pansies. “Why, I thought there was some love between you.”

  “I suppose.” Elspeth threw the small, stale square into the fireplace. Her stomach ached with dead dreams. “He’s courted me for three years. We could have had a good match if…” Tears choked Elspeth once again. Humiliation, rage…“If I hadn’t found him in bed with someone else. The night before the wedding!”

  “The cad!” After Judith’s shout, silence rang in the room. “Do we…do we know the strumpet?”

  Elspeth gulped. How much time could she spare for confession? The train left in an hour. But perhaps Judith deserved the truth. Still, she hesitated and buttoned her pelisse. “Yes, we know her. But I want no scandal.”

  “Too late for that. But you might fix the one you started.” In thought, Judith squeezed her eyelids together. “As I see it, Carmichael behaved like a swine. No respectable person in the world would expect you to…You need to expose him.” Her garnet earbobs bounced against her cheeks. Then her face reddened like her jewels. “But how on earth did you find him—in such a state? And where? And who with?”

  “Judy, I can’t expose Carmichael without impugning my own morals. For I’d been with him the night before and…” She coughed. “And had come back to his house for more. He’d tell everyone.”

  “Oh,
goodness gracious.” Judith collapsed into one half of the tete-a-tete chairs. Both horror and curiosity glowed on her face. “He must be humiliated beyond belief at your abandonment. Why hasn’t he exposed you before now?”

  “Most likely because Mama is one of his biggest political donors.”

  “Oh, Ellie, do tell me. Everything.”

  Elspeth needed to hurry, but Judith needed to know. And as for the identity of Carmichael’s lover…she sighed. From the other attached chair, she faced her sister, her back to her supine mother, sotto voce.

  “Mama, in her…discussion upon my betrothal, explained that a female’s marital duty is dehumanizing, messy, and painful.” Elspeth looked away, to the empty fireplace. Heat poured through every pore. “Mama was so emphatic, I decided to find out myself. Prior to the wedding, I mean. That way, I wouldn’t be living in dread my entire wedding day. Or when Carmichael led me to bed after our vows.”

  “And was it?”

  “Was it what?”

  “Dehumanizing, messy, and painful?” Judith’s fingers tightened around each other.

  Elspeth cleared her throat. “Carmichael had a lovely dinner prepared, and wine. Afterward, I admit, he was quite stunned at my, um, invitation. And in accordance, very tender and gentle. I wasn’t repelled as much as I—imagined I would be.” She held her breath. That one night of curiosity had put her in this predicament.

  Had made her into a mail-order bride.

  “He seemed quite pleased with me, and I confess he incited my curiosity. Even some longing for him.” But then he ruined everything.

  “Hmm.” Judith bounced her fingertips across her mouth. “Let me rethink all of this. Carmichael is richer than Midas, more handsome than Adonis, and bound for the Senate. Hmm. I do believe married men of wealth and position do tend to have mistresses on the side. You know, with their wives so busy with charity and the children.” She blew out her cheeks and blubbered her lips like a horse. Glared at Elspeth straight on. “Perhaps you should reconsider.”

  At that, Elspeth got to her feet and bounced a small cushion off her sister’s head. Wishing the vision of finding Papa in flagrante delicto with a parlor maid, long ago, would die once and for all in her mind.

  “Then I hope your future husband does just that. I want a husband I can trust. As a matter of fact, you can have Carmichael.” Elspeth sank back down, voice softened more than ever. “If you can bear that his lover is our Miss Danaher.”

  Most of Judith’s face paled, but the cheeks bloomed bright red. “Our very own childhood governess?” she hissed.

  “The very same. The one who raised us into the women we’ve become.” Elspeth sniffed away tears. “I’m still ever so fond of her, Judy, which so confuses my rage against Carmichael. It’s for the Lord to judge her, and you see why I can’t expose this dreadful dilemma. She’ll lose her position as instructress at Wellspring Academy.”

  “But she cost you your position as Carmichael’s wife!”

  “Yes, but I’m not his true love. Miss Danaher must be, for them to take such a chance. Yet I doubt, even though he’s free now, that Carmichael would marry a working-class woman. I can’t add to her woes.”

  “Ellie…”

  “I just can’t, Judy. Don’t you remember? Miss Danaher protecting us so many times against Mama’s wrath? I feel I owe her.” Elspeth grabbed her satchel and ran to the foyer. “Indeed, we owe her.”

  “Where are you going?” Judith ran to her side. “Not a quick trip to the tea shop, I suspect. Not with that enormous carpetbag.”

  Setting down the bag, Elspeth took her sister in her arms. “I’m catching the noon train to Denver. I’m getting married.”

  “What?” Judith stepped back, eyes wider yet. “You cuckolded poor Carmichael before any of this happened? For shame.”

  “I did no such thing. I was ever faithful to that scoundrel. But now, I might be with child. And he’s out of the picture. I need a husband, fast. I don’t mind being a runaway bride. But I won’t be the wife of an unfaithful man—nor the mother of a bastard.” She opened the reticule hanging from her wrist and pulled out a crumpled newsletter. “Here. See for yourself. It’s to be a legitimate marriage.”

  Judith grabbed the paper and leaned against the wall. She was close enough to their late papa’s walking stick for Elspeth to move out of range, should Judith decide to use it as a weapon.

  “Miss Mamie’s Hearts and Hands Club newsletter? What on earth?” Judith rolled eyeballs so high the blue pupils disappeared into her forehead. “Where did you get this?”

  “Rosetta.”

  “Our parlor maid?”

  “One and the same.”

  “Why? What? Who? And when?”

  “You sound like a magazine interview. It doesn’t matter. She’s escaping, too.”

  Judith shook her head, then slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Ellie, Mama will be bound for her grave tomorrow. How much shock can she bear? I can barely bear it. First, you leave Carmichael at the altar—call your maneuver what you will—and three days later, you’re off to wed a man you don’t know? Who’s the cuckolder now?” Her knees gave way, and she slid down the foyer wall.

  The words did sound somewhat foolish, coming out of Judith’s mouth, but Elspeth intended to stick to her plan. She had some dignity left. She straightened her shoulders. “I wired him two days ago, and he’s willing. I freighted my trunk yesterday. When you thought I was out shopping.”

  “But Ellie, why not…someone from around here?” Judith scanned the paper, gleaning information from the advertisement Elspeth had circled in red ink.

  “Goodness, Judy. All the fops and dandies for fifty miles are Carmichael’s friends and cronies.”

  Then the paper crunched inside Judith’s fingers.

  “A rancher? Hezekiah Steller? Ellie, have you lost your mind? A stroll in the park is your idea of nature. There will be mountains and rivers and wild hooligans. And bears! You never even fed your pet cat on your own. This man likely has chickens. And cows. Maybe even pigs.”

  “I’m determined.”

  “East Slope, Colorado?” Judith coughed out the state’s name like a curse. “Ellie, you might be two hundred miles from a town. From the next living neighbor. Help me, oh, Lord, and give me strength. Ellie, this man might be old or sick. Or fat. Or a fool.” She shook her head.

  A nasty shiver ran down Elspeth’s spine. Judith did have a way with words. Nonetheless…

  “He’s twenty-four.”

  “No matter. He could have lost a leg or—or both. Or worse, his mind. He might live in a shack and be poorer than a church mouse.”

  Elspeth had that covered. “My trust fund.”

  “Oh, dearest God, then he’s likely after your money. And you don’t even know what he looks like!”

  That truism did concern Elspeth more than she’d ever let on, but the deal had been struck. “We had no time to exchange tintypes. As for the rest of your criticisms…” She drummed up some bravery. “Well, I might not have to stay long. Just a month.”

  “What do you mean?” Judith’s eyes narrowed in a way Elspeth was starting not to like.

  She cleared her throat again, cheeks hot. “If my—my, um, woman’s time comes within a month, I’ll know I’m not—you know. And if I’m not…with child—” She held out her hand to get Judith to her feet for a healthy, sisterly hug. “I may be home sooner than I imagine.”

  “And then what? You simply wander back to Omaha like nothing happened? Two weddings in one month? And a divorce? Oh, oh, Ellie.” Judith slapped away Elspeth’s hand and burst into tears. “Why don’t you wait out the month and pray you’re not enceinte? When were your last courses anyway?”

  Elspeth moved her shoulders in both a shrug and a shiver. “I never quite remember. I’ve no need. I am always warned by a paining deep down in my belly the day before.”

  “Then why jump into some stranger’s bed until you’re certain?” Judith’s fingers had woven into one large knot.


  “Because…” Elspeth did have scruples. “If I do so now, I’d never have to lie to him. If it happens, it could well be his child. If I wait, I’d know for sure.”

  Judith blew her nose on the tiny hanky she kept crammed in her sleeve. “This is an impossible coil, Ellie. You’ll never be able to come back here. You know that, don’t you?”

  Elspeth held her sister close as sudden pain washed over her. Coming back had always been her plan, but suddenly, she realized Judith was right. Not to Omaha anyway. Her heart plummeted to the floor and rose up to choke her.

  “Well, couldn’t you and I—we could get a house in—in Council Bluffs. Couldn’t we, Judy? Close enough to Mama, but with a river in between. I could pretend to be an honest widow.”

  “Honest?” Judith rolled her eyes, then promptly shoved Elspeth away. “Mama?”

  From the doorway of her little sitting room, Mama lunged toward them, skirts swishing across the oaken floor like a giant purple mop.

  “How can you so besmirch your upbringing, Elspeth Marguerite Verbena Maroney?” Her eyes, although squished raisin-esque in her face, blazed with fury.

  “Me?”

  “Carmichael Millard is a good man with a town named after him! He only does what men do. Get used to it. I thought I explained all this during our…discussion on womanhood.” Mama spat without any moisture. “As for you, approaching his bed like a trollop—”

  Good Lord, her mother had heard that? So much for sitting with her back turned. As such, Elspeth’s decision made more sense than ever. Like Rosetta, she’d never be free of Mama’s eavesdropping, rules, and expectations unless she left. “I’m going to marry Hezekiah, Mama. I’m not running away as much as running to a new life.”

  “I forbid it. Your father must be rolling in his grave. I’ll get our barristers to cut you off.” The pointed toes of Mama’s boots bit at her silk hem like sharp teeth.