His Secret Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 8)

by Merry Farmer

  Bonnie crossed her arms. “What can you do to me that hasn’t already been done? How do you think you can possibly hurt me in ways I haven’t already been hurt?”

  “You know exactly how I can hurt you,” he growled, eyes ablaze with threat.

  Bonnie remained undeterred. “What, by taking my Place away from me? Throwing us all out because you own the deed?” She raised her voice, looking out over the congregation to make sure everyone heard.

  Rex flinched, taking a half step back.

  “You didn’t want the good folks of Haskell to know that you’re the true owner of my Place, did you?” Again, she searched the faces of her friends and neighbors. Rupert was surprised to find several people nodding and humming, as if a lot of things finally made sense to them. “Actually, no,” Bonnie went on. “You own the building we’ve been operating out of, but you don’t own my girls. You don’t own what we’re really all about.” She took a step toward him. “You don’t own me.”

  Rex gaped like a fish for a few seconds before gathering his wits. “You think that these people, your friends, will let your girls conduct their filthy trade in the back rooms of their businesses? In their spare bedrooms?” More than a few of the observers glanced away with guilty, sheepish looks. A few shook their heads in smug satisfaction. “Without a place to carry on your dirty business, without my money keeping you all from freezing or starving, you’re nothing.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Rupert stepped in once more. He turned to Bonnie, deliberately ignoring Bonneville. “I don’t care if you have a house to keep your girls safe in. I don’t care if you don’t have a cent to your name. And I don’t care if you commit every sin in the book. You’re not nothing. To me, Bonnie Cole, you’re everything.”

  He pulled her in for a kiss—a quick kiss, but one that proved to everyone watching what he felt for her, and that they belonged together. More than a few of the young women watching sighed. When Rupert stepped back, Bonnie smiled up at him with a look that could light the heavens.

  “But…this is…I won’t have you…” Bonneville stuttered, scrambling to say or do something to salvage the situation. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, shaking in his rage. “I want you and your filthy whores out of my building now.”

  Unmoved, Bonnie stared ice at him and said, “We’ll be out by sundown tomorrow.”

  “I want you out now, instantly, before sundown tonight,” Bonneville roared.

  “Sundown tomorrow will be enough.” George stepped in. “We’ll all see that they have their belongings packed up and moved out by then.”

  Bonnie stepped close enough to whisper in Rex’s ear, “Besides, you wouldn’t want the good people of Haskell to know all of the terms of our arrangement these last few years, would you? All the pathetic, loose, limp details?” She peeked down at the front of his trousers.

  Bonneville stammered wordlessly and pulled his hips back, tugging at the hem of his jacket. “You haven’t heard the last of this.” Bonneville glared at Bonnie. “I’ll sue you for breach of promise. I’ll take everything you have and then some.”

  “I don’t have anything.” Bonnie shrugged. “Except my pride. Except my freedom.”

  “And us,” Pearl spoke up from the back of the church.

  “Yes, you have us.” Della joined her. All of Bonnie’s girls stood in their pew, showing their solidarity.

  “You have us too,” Lucy Faraday added, jumping to her feet and dragging her family up with her.

  “And us.” Honoria Templesmith joined in from where she stood in her bridesmaid’s dress at the back of the church, her husband by her side.

  “And…and me.” Bebe took a step forward, flushed with excitement.

  “Shut up, Bebe,” Vivian and Melinda snapped in unison. Bebe lowered her head and shrank back.

  “You can count on me.” Theophilus Gunn stood in his seat toward the front of the church, shifting everyone’s attention to the other side of the room. “I can’t allow illicit business to be conducted on my premises. But if Howard agrees, I can provide rooms for the girls until such a time as a new building is found for your efforts, Bonnie.”

  A ripple passed through the congregation. “Thank you, Mr. Gunn.” Bonnie nodded to the man, a triumphant smile growing on her face. “I’m sure we’re much obliged.”

  “You…you can’t do this.” Bonneville continued to shake and shift restlessly.

  “Yes, he can.” Howard rose with a victorious smile, making the moment as dramatic as possible. “I own the hotel, and I say he can give rooms to whomever he pleases. And as it happens, I have recently entered negotiations to hire Mr. Cole and his company to build several new structures in Haskell. We may be able to come to an agreement on a house of ill repute while we’re at it.”

  “Actually, sir.” Rupert smirked. “We had a few thoughts about that this morning that we’d like to discuss with you.” He glanced sideways to Bonnie and winked. His plan was turning out better than he’d thought it could.

  Bonneville’s plan, on the other hand, was all but ruined, and he knew it. He stood his ground for only a few more seconds, shaking with indignation and, if Rupert wasn’t mistaken, embarrassment. Then, with all eyes on him, he let out a string of curses and stomped past Rupert and Bonnie to the back of the church.

  “Rance! Girls! We’re leaving.” Without waiting to see if his family followed—although they did, like sheep—Bonneville stormed out the back of the church, slamming the door behind him.

  The entire congregation let out a collective sigh of relief. Someone began clapping, and within seconds, the entire church rang with applause, cat-calls, and well-wishes. It was such a surreal moment that Rupert could only laugh.

  On second thought, that wasn’t the only thing he could do. As soon as the applause died down, he dropped to one knee, taking Bonnie’s hands. The crowd instantly quieted, though a few people gasped.

  “Bonnie, I know things have been hard between us these last few years.” He glanced up at her, as earnest as he’d ever felt, especially when he saw the tears forming in Bonnie’s eyes. “But I love you. I always have loved you. I never stopped loving you.”

  “Oh, Rupert.” She squeezed his hands tighter, a tear escaping and running down her cheek. “I love you too, and I always have. I’m sorry things went wrong between us.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he assured her. “We can make it all right. We can get married again, start over. What do you say?”

  “Yes,” she burst, her tears flowing freely now. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you again.”

  Rupert began to rise to his feet, but George stepped in. “Um, actually, you can’t do that.”

  “What?” Rupert and Bonnie snapped at the same time.

  George shrugged. “You can’t get remarried.”

  “Why not?” Bonnie blinked fast, wiping away her tears.

  “Is there some law that says we can’t?”

  George chuckled. “No. No, you can’t get remarried, because you were never unmarried.”

  “What?” They both replied again.

  “You’re still married the first time.”

  Bonnie and Rupert exchanged confused glances. “But the divorce decree,” Bonnie said, lowering her voice. “You filed it, didn’t you?”

  George shook his head. He reached into a pocket under his minister’s robes and pulled out the tattered old document. “I couldn’t.”

  “But…but you said you would.”

  Rupert couldn’t tell if Bonnie was upset or relieved.

  George unfolded the paper and showed it to them. “I couldn’t file a document with an obvious forgery for one of the signatures.”

  “What?” This time it was Pearl who exclaimed, rushing forward. “But it looked so good.”

  George burst into full laughter. “Yes, it’s very neat, but people don’t generally spell their own names incorrectly.”

  Rupert and Bonnie both did a double-take, looking more closely at Rupert’s si
gnature. In an instant, Rupert too burst out laughing. His last name had been spelled with a “K” instead of a “C.”

  “Good Lord,” Bonnie sighed, taking the document from George’s outstretched hand. “How did I not see that before?”

  “My guess is that you didn’t see what you didn’t want to see,” George said. “Because you never actually wanted this silly divorce decree to go through in the first place.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t,” Bonnie admitted. She glanced from George to Rupert, then happily tore the decree in half, then into a few more pieces for good measure. She threw the pieces away, letting them scatter. “Well, I guess all that’s left now is for us to figure out where we’re all going to live until you can build a new house.”

  Rupert grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a decade. “That’s not all we have to do.”

  “No?” Bonnie blinked, uncertain.

  Rupert took her hands, kissed her knuckles, then looked around at the still-curious congregation. “We have a whole, decorated church here, filled with people and ready for a wedding. I think we should do the whole thing again.”

  “You could always renew your vows,” George put in from the side.

  “That sounds like a lovely idea,” Bonnie agreed.

  “Yes, it does,” Pearl seconded. The rest of the girls nodded and smiled. The congregation caught on, going as far as to encourage them to continue on to the front of the sanctuary.

  Honoria, as the only bridesmaid left, rushed forward to walk by Bonnie’s side, standing with her when they reached the chancel. Trey Knighton hopped up from the front pew to stand by Rupert’s side. It was a shame that Skipper and his other Everland friends couldn’t be there with them, but it was good to have new friends too.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the renewal of love between these two people, who have gone through ups and downs that most of us could never imagine, but have managed to find their way back to each other,” George began the ceremony.

  Rupert had never seen vows renewed, but in the end, it wasn’t that much different from getting married the first time. The promise was the same, but this time, he knew it would stick. This time when he said the words, it would truly be forever.

  “Do you, Rupert Cole, take this woman, Bonnie Horner Cole, once again, as your wife?”

  “I do,” Rupert answered.

  “And do you, Bonnie Horner Cole, take this man, Rupert Cole, into your heart and life again as your husband?”

  “I most certainly do,” Bonnie answered. “And this time, nothing’s going to come between us.”

  Epilogue

  The dining room of The Cattleman Hotel had never seen as much noise as it had for Thanksgiving Dinner. Theophilus Gunn had opened his doors to host a feast not only for the dozen displaced girls from Bonnie’s place, but for a tidy handful who had come over from The Gingerbread Man in Everland, as well as Meri and Jack Carpenter, and Skipper King.

  “It’s just a shame Max couldn’t come,” Rupert called across the end of the table to Skipper as the two of them enjoyed their status as the only men there, aside from Gunn and Jack. “He would have loved this.”

  “Yeah, and Roy DeVille would have hated it,” Skipper laughed back.

  “Roy DeVille is probably having dinner with Rex,” Bonnie added from Rupert’s side, cutting the juicy slice of turkey on her plate. “From what you’ve told me, those two would probably make the best of friends.”

  “I’m sure they would,” Meri agreed with a wink. She and Bonnie had become fast friends as trips between Haskell and Everland had grown more frequent.

  “From what I’ve heard, Bonneville and DeVille likely already are best of friends,” Skipper replied with a humorless laugh. “Makes you think.”

  “Not me,” Rupert said with a wide grin, helping himself to a heaping spoon of cranberry sauce from the bowl in the middle of the table. “I’m through worrying about Rex Bonneville or Roy DeVille or any of their type.”

  “You say that now, but you and I both know Rex will cause some sort of trouble,” Bonnie replied.

  The conversation sounded serious, but none of them was in the mood to let it get to them. They’d enjoyed too much good fortune lately, had too many friends come to their aid in the month since Rex had turned Bonnie and the girls out of their Place, to let a few threats get in the way of their Thanksgiving.

  As hard as it had been for Bonnie to leave the home she’d grown so attached to for the last eight years, in a way, it had been like cutting off an anchor that had been holding her down without her even realizing it. Her friends had been far more supportive of the changes she and Rupert had continued to cook up. Rupert’s friends were surprisingly helpful too. After deciding to stay in Haskell for a while, Rupert had written a letter to Skipper about Howard’s building deal. As soon as he received it, Skipper hopped the next train and rushed to Haskell to not only agree to the contract, but to offer a wealth of suggestions that would benefit both King Cole Construction and Haskell. Since then, there had been several trips back and forth to settle things.

  Rupert had also done a little research and discovered who owned the land on the other side of the tracks, across from Haskell’s station. Everyone had been surprised that Howard wasn’t the owner…everyone but Howard, who had merely shrugged and said he’d sold a patch to someone long before the railroad came through. Rupert wrote a letter to the owner—an old rancher who was getting up in years and forgot his property extended all the way to the tracks. Much to Rupert’s surprise, the old rancher was not only willing to sell Rupert enough land to build a new Place on, he offered an astoundingly good price for the entire five acres. One letter—written in pencil, at that—and Rupert had ended up as sole owner of a tract of land adjacent to Haskell proper that could be divided and sold as the town expanded. The potential for future income from that one deal was enough to boggle Bonnie’s mind.

  It had also started a rumor that still made Bonnie giggle when she thought about it.

  “Mr. Cole, Mr. Cole!” Della shouted down the table. “Can I borrow your magic pencil? I want to write a love letter to Seamus McGee.”

  The rest of the girls laughed. “Seamus is sixty if he’s a day, Della,” Pearl teased her.

  “Yes, why send love poems to an old gringo like that when you could put that pencil to better use casting a spell on a young vaquero?” Domenica added.

  “Seamus is sweet,” Della argued. “Besides, he doesn’t ask too much, and he’s got a house of his own.”

  The girls hummed in sympathy. It was as hard on them as it was on Bonnie to lose their home, but they were finding ways to get by. Some saw the respite from conducting business as a welcome break. Others missed male company. But that was where Rupert’s friends had come up with a suggestion. Those of Bonnie’s girls who still wanted to keep company with men went to stay in Everland, working at The Gingerbread Man for a while, and those girls from The Gingerbread Man who wanted a change of scenery had come to Haskell to stay at the hotel and explore the surrounding ranches. It was a strange arrangement, one Bonnie was certain half or more of the people of Haskell wouldn’t approve of if they thought about it too hard, but it made her girls happy, so who was she to argue?

  The boisterous clamor of the feast swelled as George walked into the dining room.

  “Rev. Pickering! Rev. Pickering! Do you think Della should write a love letter to Seamus McGee with Rupert’s magic pencil or should she save it for one of the ranch hands?” Pearl practically leapt out of her seat to ask.

  Taken by surprise, George could only gape and stammer at first. “Um, I think that she should write a love letter to whomever she feels like writing it to.”

  “Ha!” Della grinned at her companions. “See?”

  The girls laughed their way into a new argument about the relative merits of Haskell and the surrounding ranch’s single men. They turned their questions and reasoning to Gunn, sitting at the head of the table with and
embarrassed Jack across the corner, begging him to weigh in. Gunn just laughed and blushed furiously.

  George scooted down to the foot of the table where Rupert, Bonnie, and Skipper sat. “Did she say magic pencil?”

  Rupert laughed and shook his head. “The girls have got it in their mind that a dumb, old pencil some old woman gave me at the train station brings good luck to whoever writes a letter with it.”

  “You have to admit,” Bonnie said, pointing her fork at him, “we have had a string of good luck lately, and it’s mostly been because of things you’ve written or drawn with that pencil.”

  Rupert laughed the suggestion off, digging back into his meal.

  “Then maybe I should borrow it,” George said, grinning.

  Bonnie’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you need to write?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately—thinking about the years, thinking about how life moves on and the past becomes the past.”

  “Those thoughts are fathoms too deep for a celebration like this,” Skipper told him.

  “Maybe,” George chuckled. “But seeing you two overcome so much to find each other again,” he glanced from Rupert to Bonnie, “has made me think about things I’ve been holding onto and whether it’s time to let go.” His eyes settled on Bonnie.

  She sent him a frank look. “George, I swear to the God you love so well, if you tell me that you’re still in love with me…”

  George laughed. “I’m not sure I ever really was in love with you. Not truly. But I feel like it’s time for me to stop telling myself I could never fall in love with anyone.”

  His tone and his grin held just enough of a mystery that Bonnie sat a little straighter. The girls who were close enough to hear the conversation over the argument at the other end of the table looked up at him hopefully as well.

  “And?” Bonnie prompted him.

  “And I’ve decided to do what you and half the rest of this town has been hinting—not too subtly, I might add—for years.”