His Tempting Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 5)

by Merry Farmer

  HIS TEMPTING BRIDE

  Copyright ©2016 by Merry Farmer

  Amazon Edition

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)

  Embellishment by © Olgasha | Dreamstime.com

  ASIN: B01ETXA008

  Paperback:

  ISBN-13: 9781532954351

  ISBN-10: 1532954352

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  His Tempting Bride

  By Merry Farmer

  For the two Miriams who have been my friends

  They’re both some of the coolest—

  and most dramatic—

  women you’ll ever meet!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Haskell, Wyoming – 1876

  February was a cold and dark time. It was a time of despair and danger. The world seemed so dead, and hope with it. Not even the romantic promise of Valentine’s Day could stop gloom’s icy fingers from seeping into one’s soul and freezing one’s heart.

  Miriam Long heaved a dramatic sigh and flopped back against her seat on the steadily chugging train. She pressed the back of her long-fingered hand to her forehead, certain that ultimate ruin waited for her around the next bend in the tracks.

  Across the aisle from her, Miles Kopanari chuckled. “What on earth are you thinking now, Miriam?” He stretched his arm against the back of his seat, around his mother, Madame Kopanari’s shoulders. His mother turned away from the snowy landscape outside the window long enough to smile and pat Miles’s leg.

  “I am simply despairing of the situation we all find ourselves in,” Miriam told him, her voice dramatic and breathless. “No home, no direction, and—”

  “No money,” Miles finished for her, his grin turning brittle.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to be so brutal about it,” Miriam said in her normal, non-theatrical voice.

  Beside her, both of the small, slender Chinese twins, Meizhen and Meiying, twisted away from their window to glance from Miriam to Miles.

  “No money,” Meizhen said with her heavy accent.

  “Bad,” Meiying added.

  “It is bad,” Miles admitted, rubbing his face.

  He had a handsome face, all things considered. Miriam had liked it—or more importantly, had trusted it—from the moment she answered his advertisement in the San Francisco newspaper. Miles was the perfect image of an impresario, with his olive complexion, dark hair, inexplicable blue eyes, and eccentric, curled moustache. He would have made an excellent model in an advertisement for pomade. But in fact, he was the master of ceremonies and business manager for the Kopanari Company, the rag-tag jumble of traveling performers that Miriam had joined shortly after arriving in San Francisco.

  “Money is nothing but a chain that binds the heart,” Juan Bertran, the other member of the company, commented from the row behind the rest of them in his rich, Spanish accent.

  As always, Juan had his guitar out and in his hands, playing a soulful melody of his homeland. He was so talented that none of the fellow passengers had complained about the music all the way from Salt Lake City.

  “Money is a chain,” Juan repeated, “but it is also a necessity.”

  “That’s right,” Miriam agreed with a firm nod. It quickly turned into an anxious frown.

  Money had been the root of all her problems, but not in the way it was now. She knew how to live without it. She had the grit to do what needed to be done to survive, but she didn’t want that for these people who had become her friends—not brave-but-overwhelmed Miles and his mother, not the beautiful and delicate Chinese twins, and not romantic and wistful Juan.

  “Don’t worry.” She put on false cheer as she made eye-contact with each of her troupe-mates. “The next stop on the line is Haskell, Wyoming. I have it on good authority that Haskell is a kind place full of generous people.”

  “Good authority?” Miles sent her an indulgent smile. “So the amazing Daphne Diamond has friends in backwater towns in the middle of the frontier?”

  “Yes, well…” Miriam blushed and lowered her head.

  When she had first joined the troupe, she had concocted a wild new identity for herself. Daphne Diamond was a Swedish songbird in the mold of Jenny Lind, who had been performing in the heart of high society in New York City. She had toured the capitals of Europe and sung for royalty. Miles had seen right through her act at her audition, but had hired her because she played it so well.

  “I have a friend here,” she went on. “Elizabeth—or Libby, as she likes to be called—Sims. We met on the train as we passed through back in November. I said I’d write to her once I was settled, but I haven’t had a chance. But I’m certain I’ll be able to find her once we arrive. She assures me Haskell isn’t so big that people won’t know her.”

  “Then can it be big enough for us to find work?” Miles questioned.

  “Oh, I’m certain it is,” Miriam answered, but she was anything but. Truth be told, after months of performing in third-rate theaters for a pittance, she was ready for one glimpse of a friendly face.

  As long as she could avoid other faces—a face—a particular face that she had never seen, even though she had broken a promise to him—she would be fine. After all, Cody Montrose lived and worked out on Paradise Ranch, miles away from Haskell proper. Chances were that she could be in and out of Haskell before the man she’d come west to marry as a mail-order bride knew she was there. She’d fled from him with cold feet once. This time she needn’t develop any sort of feet for him at all.

  Miriam blinked out of her thoughts to find Miles staring at her, even though the others had gone back to watching out the window as the train slowed, and Juan to plucking away at his guitar.

  “You really think we have a chance here?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Miriam straightened her back, lifted her chin, and arranged the worn splendor of her flashy stage dress. “Why, the place where I lived before coming west was closely associated with the town of Haskell. It is well-known in the area for being welcoming to strangers. I’m quite certain we will find everything we need there.”

  “Mmm hmm.” Miles regarded her with a sly but fond grin, nodding, then shaking his head. “You do beat all, Miriam Long. I have yet t
o decide whether you’ll be my saving grace or the death of me.”

  To his side, his mother muttered something in her broad, expressive Romani tongue. Miles chuckled and squeezed her shoulder.

  “What? What did she say?” Miriam asked, leaning into the aisle.

  Miles was spared having to answer her as the train slowed further and the conductor called, “Haskell! Haskell, next stop!” at the front of the train car.

  A few people, including Miles and Juan, stood and reached for bags on the racks above the seats. Miriam’s heart rolled straight down into her gut as memories of the journey with Libby months before slammed back into her. Meizhen and Meiying nudged her to slip into the aisle so they could get up.

  “Oh.” Miriam drew the syllable out, clutching her hand to her heart. “I don’t know if I can do it.” Every bit of the urgency to move on, to flee, to escape the horrible destiny that awaited her, seized her again. “I can’t, Miles. I can’t do this.”

  Miles laughed at her, kindness in his enigmatic eyes. “Stopping in Haskell was your idea, Miriam.”

  “Yes, but…but I left unfinished business here.”

  “I thought you said you’d never been here before,” Juan added as he packed his guitar into its case.

  “I haven’t,” Miriam confirmed. “But that’s part of the problem. I was supposed to stop here. I was supposed to marry a man here.”

  Miles’s brow shot up. “You were?”

  “Haskell,” the conductor repeated as the train came to a full stop. A trickle of people started toward the front of the car.

  “It’s a long story,” Miriam blurted, hands beginning to shake.

  “Well, you’d better tell it quickly,” Miles said. “We’re blocking the aisle.”

  With a bag in one hand, offering his free arm to his mother to help her up, Miles nodded for Miriam to move forward. Meiying took Miriam’s hand and tugged her along. Madame Kopanari issued an order to Miriam in Romani. That was the final straw, really. One did not disobey Madame Kopanari. Miriam stumbled forward.

  “If worst comes to worst and you fear you’re in danger of being found out,” Miles said as their entire troupe shuffled to the front of the car, “tell everyone your name is Daphne Diamond. It’s what you told me, after all.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” Still, Miriam swallowed hard as the blast of cold air from outside the train hit her when she reached the door.

  She could do this. The only person in town who knew what she looked like was Libby Sims. Well, and Wendy Weatherford Montrose. And maybe Corva Haskell, although they hadn’t spoken much at Hurst Home. And Eden Chance. Blast. Eden would know her well.

  “Oh dear,” she wailed as she stepped down the stairs and onto a frozen platform. Her shivering had nothing to do with the cold.

  “Mind your step, miss.” A man caught somewhere between youth and middle-age who wore a uniform like a stationmaster took her arm to help her over an icy patch. “There you go, you’re safe and sound in Haskell now.”

  For whatever reason, his kind words made Miriam smile. Libby was right. Haskell was a nice place, a good place. Why, even the stationmaster—tired as he looked—had greeted her with warmth.

  “Thank you, kind sir.” She regained enough courage to smile brightly and nod at him.

  The stationmaster beamed at her. “Athos Strong, ma’am. And if you need anything, you just ask.”

  “Many thanks, Mr. Strong.”

  “Our luggage?” Miles asked Mr. Strong as he skipped over the icy patch behind Miriam.

  “Right this way.” Mr. Strong gestured toward the baggage car, which was being unloaded by a young man who bore a distinct resemblance to Mr. Strong.

  “Juan, could you—”

  “Done.” Juan followed Mr. Strong before Miles could finish the question.

  “I’m going to see that Mother and the twins are safe and settled in that stationhouse over there.” Miles nodded to the small building whose windows glowed with warmth at the other side of the platform. “Think you could figure out where we might be able to stay tonight?”

  “Absolutely.” Miriam gave him a smile, then shared it with the twins and Madame Kopanari.

  Having a task gave her confidence. A place to stay. That should be easy enough. Back at Hurst Home, before she had been approached with Cody Montrose’s request for a bride, Haskell and its geography had been the topic of many a conversation. She knew there was at least one boarding house, that Paradise Ranch sometimes took in visitors, and that there was a hotel called The Cattleman. Well, Paradise Ranch was out of the question if she hoped to avoid Cody. A boarding house might not have room for the entire troupe. That left the hotel, but where was it?

  “Excuse me.” She turned toward Mr. Strong, hoping to grab his attention, but he was thoroughly busy with the baggage now. Miriam let out a breath and dropped her shoulders, then scanned the platform for someone else who could help.

  Her eyes zipped right toward him. How could they not?

  “Oh, my.” She pressed a hand to her fluttering heart, suddenly feeling warm.

  Across the platform, waiting by a wagon and watching the men who were unloading the baggage car, was the most ruggedly gorgeous man Miriam had ever seen. Even wrapped in a wool coat, thick trousers, boots, and with a scarf around his neck, his attractiveness was a beacon. Clothes couldn’t hide how well-formed he was. His face was as perfect as if it had been chiseled out of marble. Best of all, he caught her staring and lit up with a grin that could almost be called wicked.

  Oh, yes. If ever there was a man Miriam wanted to tell her where to go to find a safe, warm bed for the night, it was this man. She patted her hair, smoothed a hand over her bodice and her skirts, stood straight, chest prominently displayed, and started toward him.

  Well, that wasn’t something you saw every day. Cody Montrose pushed away from his spot leaning against the Paradise Ranch wagon, feeling warm down to his toes as the beauty sashayed toward him. More than warm. It was as if embers had flared to life all through his body, some spots more than others. The woman was a vision. Her hair was golden, and she obviously had a lot of it, tucked into a net at the back of her head under her hat. Her cheeks burned a bright pink in the cold, but even with a fashionable winter coat, he could see she had the kind of figure men dreamed of.

  “Good sir, I was hoping you might be able to help me,” she asked in a voice like music as she came within a few feet of him.

  Her eyes were a magnificent blue and her lips as perfect and kissable as Cupid’s bow.

  “I’ll give you any help you need,” he replied, hoping she would read all sorts of mischief into those simple words.

  She laughed low in her throat, tilting her head down and glancing up at him through long lashes. “I was hoping you would say that.”

  It was Cody’s lucky day. The woman was every man’s dream, and she didn’t appear to be one of those fainting flowers that folks at church were always telling him he should want. Nope, whoever this woman was, she had fire in her eyes and mischief on her mind. A blind man could see that.

  “What can I do for you, miss…”

  “Daphne Diamond.” She held up a slender, gloved hand.

  Hell, she was a diamond, all right. She cut right to the core of him. Cody stepped forward, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. Other things raised as well. Thank heaven for winter and long coats or he would have been in danger of offending her.

  On second thought, this woman looked like she might be proud of causing a man’s trousers to fit too tight.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Diamond?” he asked, holding her hand longer than he should.

  She didn’t seem to mind. Like one of Bonnie’s best girls, she had her heat turned up all the way. She inched closer to him, biting her rose-red lips for a moment.

  “I was looking for a place to stay,” she said, implying much, much more. “Somewhere warm and welcoming.”

  Cody could think of one bed that would definitely be warm an
d welcoming to her. His.

  “I know a couple of places that fit that description.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, not in any hurry to let go of her hand. “What kind of welcome did you have in mind?”

  “The very warmest.” She lowered her voice further.

  Sparks flashed through Cody’s body, bringing it to life, even as his brain seemed to dull down and have a hard time with basic thoughts. “Is that so?” was all he could manage to say.

  “Mmm hmm.” She inched closer still. “Would you happen to know of any place like that?”

  “Like what?” A moment too late, he winced over his own stupidity.

  “Where my friends and I might find lodging and…succor tonight?”

  A jolt of pure lust pulsed through him, making things jump uncomfortably. “Uh…”

  “Miriam.” A man called to her from further up the platform next to the stationhouse.

  Cody’s brain froze altogether. Miriam?

  Miss Diamond was instantly tense, her eyes wide, the color flaring hotter in her cheeks.

  “Miriam, have you found out where we can all stay yet?” The man picked his way gingerly across the icy platform to them.

  “Miriam?” Cody let the woman’s hand go. He stared at her, eyes slowly narrowing. Blond hair and lots of it, blue eyes… “Not Miriam…Long?”

  The woman paled, her blue eyes round. “Uh, y-yes?”

  Cody’s heart sank, even though it continued to beat a fury. “You said your name was Daphne Diamond.”

  “It’s a stage name. I…” The woman—Miriam—stuttered and blinked. She took a large step back, nearly thumping into the man who had called her by name. Her hand clapped over her full and distracting bosom, taking Cody’s eyes with it. “Who are you?”

  It took Cody a second to remember the answer. He dragged his eyes from her chest to her eyes. “Cody Montrose,” he said. His jaw and back hardened at the look of pure panic that came to her eyes. “And you’re Miriam Long, aren’t you?”