Mail-Order Brides of the West: Trudy (A Montana Sky Series Novel)

by Debra Holland

“Ah. It will be nice to have another educated woman to talk to. I look forward to meeting her.” She tapped the arm of her chair, thinking. “Bring her here first, Mr. Flanigan. I can tell you from my experience that Miss Bauer would welcome a chance to freshen up and change into her wedding gown. Traveling by train is dreadfully dirty and uncomfortable.”

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am. But Mrs. Norton has also offered. I don’t feel right about changing the plan. She may have gone to a lot of trouble to prepare for Trudy’s, uh, Miss Bauer’s arrival.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Norton would be so thoughtful.” Mrs. Cameron tapped her finger some more. “Dr. Cameron currently has no patients, although, as you know, that could change in an instant. However, we would like to attend your wedding, if that’s all right with you. I think having us there might lend more…” She hesitated.

  “Credibility,” Seth supplied. “It will certainly start us off in better standing in the community. Not that I care much for that. But Miss Bauer might.”

  “Good.” Mrs. Cameron stood. “You’d better go pick up your bride. We’ll meet you at the church with the flowers.”

  Relief and a sudden surge of gratitude had Seth rising more slowly. He had to clear his throat before he could thank her for her trouble.

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Cameron patted his shoulder. “Any time we can add another woman to this town only benefits our whole community. I’m looking forward to meeting her. Now you run along and meet your bride. It wouldn’t do to keep her waiting.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Trudy had taken off her hat so she could lean against the window of the train, straining to see the mountains that grew ever closer. The countryside had proven all she’d hoped, with the luminous light of the wide prairie, green with new grass, and arching blue celestial heavens, far more beautiful than the coal-smoke dulled sky over St. Louis she’d seen all her life. Now the blue-gray mountains thrust snowy peaks into the sky. Forests blanketed the sides. She couldn’t wait to get off the train so she’d have a full view of the magnificent vista.

  On cue, the portly conductor strolled down the aisle, calling, “Sweetwater Springs. Sweetwater Springs.”

  The words shot fear and excitement through her. With trembling hands, Trudy smoothed her hair and picked up her practical hat, a plain black straw with a small brim, from her lap. She tied the blue ribbons under her chin and slipped off the duster covering her blue broadcloth traveling dress.

  Rubbing her face with her handkerchief, Trudy hoped she didn’t have any smudges from the smoke and cinders blowing from the train’s smokestack. Just in case, she pulled a small round mirror from her reticule to check. As far as she could tell, her face looked clean, although pale and tired.

  She pinched her cheeks to bring some color to them, which made her look better. But the flush of pink didn’t last, and Trudy wished she could, just this once, use paint on her face. Not enough to show like a saloon girl, but for just a hint of color. She shrugged. Not that she had cosmetics anyway.

  The train jerked to a stop. She scrambled to her feet and tried to shake the wrinkles from her skirt, but to no avail. Feeling like a ragamuffin—not the impression she wanted to make on her new husband—she slipped the strings of the reticule over her wrist and collected her carpetbag. The conductor held out his hand for her bag, and Trudy gave it to him, thankful to navigate the aisle without having to carry anything.

  Once down the steps, the conductor handed her the bag. She thanked him, then eagerly looked around for Seth Flanigan.

  The platform was quiet. She was the only one who’d gotten off the train, so the single man, dressed in a suit, must be waiting for her. He was tall, but not too tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. With relief, Trudy realized she could cross the fat husband fear off her list.

  Seth started over to her, but stopped a few feet away and took off his hat. He had a full head of sable brown hair that waved to his shoulders and beautiful gray eyes.

  He’s not bald. She checked off another fear.

  Seth smiled, although his eyes looked tentative.

  He has all his teeth. Check!

  “I don’t have to ask if you’re Miss Trudy Bauer. I can tell by the hair and pretty blue eyes.”

  Trudy blushed, pleased at his compliment. She looked down, then back to his face. His dark-lashed gray eyes fascinated her. A black line circled around the smoky irises—odd, but compelling. His face was on the thin side, with a firm jaw and strong nose. She loved the look of her attractive husband-to-be and wished she wasn’t so travel worn, so she could appear in a better light.

  He held out his hand for her carpetbag. “Let me take that for you.”

  She handed the carpetbag over. Their fingers touched, and even through her gloves, she could feel warmth tingle up her arm.

  Trudy couldn’t help wishing Seth had given her hand a kiss or swept her into an embrace…. She chided herself for her disappointment. We’re strangers, and we’re in public. There will be time in the future for such gestures.

  But what if they don’t happen? Do I want to live my life without them? Trudy reminded herself that she’d entered into a contractual agreement made out of need, not love. She and Evie had talked of love, mostly because her friend so desperately needed the security of a husband’s esteem and a loving family.

  But Trudy had been the pragmatic one. Until this minute, Trudy hadn’t realized her practical reasons for marriage might not be enough—that she might want more from this man. In her stomach, panic fluttered like bird wings.

  Behind her, Trudy heard the sliding sound of a ramp being drawn to the opening of the boxcar. Ted, the man her father had paid to travel out with the boxes, thumped down the ramp, carrying a wooden crate in his arms. He staggered over to where the two of them stood, and half-set, half-dropped the crate on the ground. His frown pulled down his hangdog face. “Where do you want your things, Miss Bauer?”

  Trudy looked past Seth to the dirt street, to the wagon and team of horses parked at the platform of the depot, which she assumed belonged to him. With dismay, she saw her possessions wouldn’t fit in the wagon, perhaps not in three wagons. Her grip on her reticule tightened. Oh, dear! I didn’t think things through.

  Seth pointed at his wagon. “Load it up.”

  The man glanced from the wagon to Seth, then spit a stream of tobacco to the side.

  Disgusted, Trudy looked away.

  “You the bridegroom, eh?”

  “I am.”

  “Well, your bride’s boxes ain’t all gunna fit in that there wagon, no siree.”

  Seth raised his eyebrows at Trudy, looking amused. “Well, I guess you made good on your promise to stock up my home.” He shrugged. “I’ll make two trips.”

  Trudy felt relieved he wasn’t angry, yet... “Two trips might not be enough.” She hesitated, her gaze darting from Seth’s to the crate, to the wagon. “Perhaps three…. Then there’s…”

  “Come on, Miss Bauer,” Seth’s tone teased. “Spit it out.”

  “My piano.”

  “Your piano!” His eyes opened wide in disbelief, and his voice lost the teasing tone. “How in the heck will I get a piano moved out to the house?” Seth shook his head, obviously striving for patience. “Never mind. Your things are all in crates. They can sit here on the depot platform until later. I’ll figure out how to haul them all to the house.”

  The clomping of boot heels and jingle of spurs made them turn from staring at the boxcar to watch three men mount the stairs of the platform.

  From the tensing of her bridegroom’s body and the fisting of his free hand, Trudy knew these men weren’t welcome.

  They looked like what dime novels described as cowboys of the west, wearing denim trousers, plaid shirts, and leather vests and hats, although they could be farmers or outlaws. With apprehension, she eyed the gunbelts that sat low on their waists, then checked to see if Seth wore one. He didn’t.

  Two of the men sported mustaches—one drooped around his mouth, an
d one curled the ends into a waxed upward spiral. The handsome one was clean-shaven like Seth.

  This man hooked a thumb into his pocket. “Now who do you have here, Flanigan?” He sent her an attractive smile, but his gold eyes assessed her.

  With apprehension, Trudy realized she wouldn’t just be marrying a man, but she’d thrust herself into the circumstances of the town. And if the people weren’t friendly… She thought of the stories she’d read, if in fact they were dangerous… All of a sudden, she wished herself back in safe, boring St. Louis.

  Stiffen your spine! Trudy scolded herself. You wanted adventure, and here it is.

  * * *

  Seth had to bite back a curse. Slim Watts, Jasper Blattnoy, and his nemesis, Frank McCurdy, of all people.

  Slim, with his bow-legged gait, strolled over to Seth and clapped him on the back. “We saw you here with a woman, and I said, ‘Let’s head on over to see if I’m about to win my—’”

  “Miss Bauer, this is Slim Watts,” Seth said in a voice loud enough to drown out what Slim was about to let out of the bag. He shot his so-called friend a shut-your-mouth look. “My fiancée, Miss Bauer.”

  Slim gave Trudy a gap-tooth grin. The cowboy had been drinking, and the odor of whisky and unwashed man was enough to make Seth’s eyes water. Trudy is not going to be impressed with my friends.

  He risked a glance at his betrothed and saw her trying to hide a look of dismay. But to give her credit, she didn’t step back from Slim.

  Slim doffed his hat, showing his pale forehead and thinning brown hair. “Mighty glad to meet ya, ma’am. Seth’s been mighty close-mouthed about you.” He jerked a thumb at Seth. “When’s the wedding?”

  “Reverend Norton is expecting us now,” Seth said. With a sharp gesture, he directed the placement of a crate.

  Slim’s squinty brown eyes sparkled with mischief. He ignored Seth to examine Trudy. “Flanigan did say you were pretty, but I don’t think he did you justice. I don’t s’pose I could coax you into changing your mind about Flanigan here?” He elbowed Seth. “Marry me instead?”

  The dismayed look left Trudy’s face, and pink flooded her cheeks, making her look pretty and desirable.

  A glance at Slim told Seth his friend had noticed the same thing.

  She slipped her hand around Seth’s arm. “I thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Watts.” She gave Seth a glowing smile. “However, my mind is made up.”

  Trudy’s smile did something to Seth’s midsection. Plus, he liked the feel of her fingers on his bicep and straightened, feeling proud to have her choose him, even if winning over a man like Slim didn’t mean much.

  The other two pressed forward, “Jasper Blattnoy.” Seth waved at the man. He made the introduction to the last person on Earth he wanted her to meet. “Frank McCurdy.” He spoke the name as clipped as possible.

  “Welcome to Sweetwater Springs, Miss Bauer.” McCurdy doffed his hat. The sun glinted on his hair and showed his handsome features. He smiled with enough charm to set a snake dancing. “What Flanigan, here, has neglected to tell you is that I’m your nearest neighbor. You need anything, anything at all—” his tone sounded seductive “—you just call on me.”

  With a clench of his free hand, Seth suppressed a possessive growl. He wanted to hurl the carpetbag at McCurdy, then follow it up with a punch to the face. But with his betrothed standing next to him, he could hardly engage in fisticuffs. He forced himself to relax his hand.

  Trudy smiled. “You’re very kind, Mr. McCurdy.”

  The hell he is. But since Trudy apparently didn’t notice anything wrong, Seth decided not to make a scene.

  Down the street, movement caught his eye, and he looked over to see Dr. and Mrs. Cameron walking toward the church with rancher John Carter and his wife Pamela. Nick Sanders trailed in their wake. Mrs. Cameron carried a fat bouquet of red roses.

  Mrs. Cameron saw them still standing on the platform, waved, and steered the party toward them. At the depot, she gathered up her skirt with her free hand and trotted up the steps. “You’ll have to forgive me, Mr. Flanigan.” Her Scottish brogue sounded soothing. “I’ve taken it upon myself to invite Mr. and Mrs. Carter, whom I caught just before they were about to go into the mercantile.”

  As the new group joined them, the three cowboys edged to the side. Seth made the introductions all around.

  Mrs. Carter’s smile lit up her plump, plain face. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Mr. Carter and I want to welcome you to Sweetwater Springs, Miss Bauer. Since you don’t have family and friends here, we would love to be present at your wedding.”

  In the three years since John Carter had brought back a wife from a trip to Boston, the woman’s warmth and kindness had endeared her to everyone in Sweetwater Springs. The tightness of Seth’s worry about Trudy’s reception in town eased at the warm welcome for his bride.

  Mrs. Cameron handed Trudy the bouquet. “Mr. Flanigan commissioned these for you. He made a special trip to my house for them.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Trudy breathed, her face glowing. She took the flowers from Mrs. Cameron and held them to her nose for a sniff of sweetness.

  Ted thumped another crate over and stacked the box on the first. “Mighty big load in that boxcar. And the train’s about to leave.” He shook his head, and his jowls quivered. “Gunna take your things with it, Miss Bauer.”

  “Oh, no,” Trudy exclaimed. She cast a worried look at Seth.

  Seth scrambled to think of a solution. But the need for immediate action and the pressure of onlookers, especially McCurdy, judging him, made his thoughts just whirl through his head.

  “Reckon you’ll need three wagons,” Ted continued in a gloomy tone. “One for that piany.”

  Mrs. Carter clapped her hands together. “How wonderful! Mr. Carter had a piano delivered for me last year. I hope you brought new music.”

  “I did. And I’ll be delighted to share.”

  Carter, the foremost rancher in the area, was a tall man with a thin face, calm blue eyes, and sandy hair. He had a quiet way about him, but when he laid down the law, people jumped to do his bidding. He took in Seth’s situation at a glance. “Good thing we brought the wagon today to pick up supplies and not the carriage.” He looked at the men. “Blattnoy, you drive here in a wagon?”

  The cowboy jerked a thumb in the direction of the saloon. “It’s at Hardy’s.”

  “Good. Go get it, will you? We’re going to need another one. Nick, go fetch ours. Tell the Cobbs we’ll pick up everything from the mercantile later.”

  Since the day of the fight, the swelling on Nick’s face had gone down. But like Seth had suspected would happen, McCurdy’s blow had left the young man with a bump on the bridge of his nose.

  “I can load a few things into my surrey,” volunteered Dr. Cameron in a brogue that matched his wife’s.

  “Much obliged to all of you.” Seth’s gaze swept everyone. Although some shame jabbed him about accepting help, he was more relieved to find an immediate solution. He glanced at Trudy, pleased to see her beaming at him in approval.

  Seth didn’t know why she was looking at him that way when Carter had solved their problems, but just seeing that expression on her face lifted his spirits.

  “Men, let’s get this train unloaded,” Carter ordered. “Then we’ll load the wagons. After the ceremony, we’ll haul everything out to your place, Flanigan. Best rent a second team from the livery for that piano, though. We can hook them to mine.” He frowned. “I know from experience, one set of horses probably won’t be enough.”

  Seth grimaced, thinking about the unexpected expense.

  Carter laughed and clapped a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “Just be grateful you’re not hauling the darn thing over a mountain pass like I had to.”

  Thank goodness for that!

  Mrs. Cameron took Trudy’s hand. “Mrs. Carter and I are whisking Miss Bauer over to the parsonage where she can refresh herself and change for the wedding, while you men see to the unloading.”

>   Trudy’s brows pulled together. She looked from Seth to John Carter. “My wedding dress is in my trunk.”

  Seth touched the back of her hand that still clung to his arm. “We’ll get your trunk off the train first, put it in the wagon, and bring it to the parsonage,” he assured her.

  “Nick can drive it over in your wagon.” Carter cocked an eyebrow at the young man’s shoulder. “He’s strong enough to carry a trunk into the house, right?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Thank you, Nick,” Trudy said, relieved. “It’s the brown trunk, not the green one. The green one can go straight into a wagon to take to the farm.”

  Nick nodded and trotted away.

  “Excellent.” Mrs. Carter included everyone in her warm smile. “We’ll meet you all at the church.”

  With her arm linked through Trudy’s, the women made off with his bride, with the doctor’s wife close behind.

  Trudy gave him an over-the-shoulder glance as if seeking reassurance.

  Seth smiled and lifted his hand in a little wave.

  The men surged toward the boxcar.

  McCurdy slunk toward the steps, obviously trying to steal away. The man didn’t get far before a sharp glance from Carter had him obeying the rancher’s silent order to join the work crew.

  Seth had to hide his gloating at the thought of McCurdy being forced to unload his bride’s boxes.

  Slim leaned toward McCurdy and said something Seth didn’t hear. But he could see McCurdy’s profile and the snarl he made. He reached in his pocket, pulled out some bills, peeled one off, and thrust the money at Slim. From the cowboy’s cocky walk, Seth knew the man had just pocketed his winnings.

  Feeling almost as cocky as Slim, Seth took off his jacket, draped it over the depot rail, and hurried to catch up with the men. The sooner they unloaded the train, the sooner he could get married and have his pretty bride all to himself…get about the business of starting life as husband and wife.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Cameron kept up a dialogue about the town and its inhabitants, but as much as Trudy tried to absorb the information, her thoughts kept bouncing between Seth and wondering how the loading was going, then to her upcoming wedding, and back to Seth. Although so far she liked her fiancée and felt attracted to him, she still was scared about marrying a stranger. What had seemed like a logical plan for a new life when she was far away in St. Louis now seemed downright foolhardy.