The Convenient Bride Collection: 9 Romances Grow from Marriage Partnerships Formed Out of Necessity

by Erica Vetsch, Amanda Barratt, Andrea Boeshaar, Mona Hodgson, Melissa Jagears, Maureen Lang, Gabrielle Meyer, Jennifer Uhlarik, Renee Yancy

  “That is a strong accusation, Mr. Cahill. Can you back it up?”

  “I got proof.” Smug grin sprouting once more, he produced a stack of papers. “Here’s the Matrimonial News from the week after Pa’s death. Inside, there’s a circled advertisement matching Honor’s description. I got letters written between Honor and Ashton Rutherford, dated between Pa’s death and a few days before the will was read. The letters reference the advertisement and their plans to meet. And they got married the same day as the reading of the will. That says a lot right there. I think she knew what was in the will and got hitched just to keep the land from me.”

  Honor leaned against Ash as the room tilted. Their letters? When—or where—could he have gotten those? She’d last seen them on—their wedding day. They’d been in the trunk with their marriage certificate, which she retrieved before entering the courthouse. Come to think of it, she’d not seen them since.

  Ash stood. “I object to this evidence, Your Honor. If he has our private correspondence, then it was illegally obtained.”

  “Overruled. Bring those to me.” Judge Sutton beckoned Nate forward.

  Silence fell as the judge perused the papers.

  Honor clutched Ash’s arm. If only he could hold her. The comfort of his embrace would soothe the quaking of her heart.

  After long minutes, the judge looked at her. “Honor Cahill, come forward.” He nodded to the chair to his right.

  She gripped Ash’s hand.

  Ash squeezed her fingers in return. “Go on. Answer him honestly.”

  Thoughts whirling, Honor faced the judge. “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “My name is Honor Rutherford.”

  Irritation flashed across his face. “My apologies. Take a seat, please.”

  Ash squeezed her hand one last time as she stepped away and seated herself where directed. Heart pounding, she stared at her husband.

  “Based on these letters, it seems you had no intention of marrying until after your father’s death. Is that true?”

  “No … yes …” Her body zinged as if lightning coursed in her veins. “It’s true. I had no intention to marry until after Papa’s death.”

  “Why did it become important then?”

  Her mouth turned cottony. Ash nodded his encouragement.

  “Last year, I went into Papa’s office to fetch paper and ink and found a copy of his will. Not knowing what it was, I read a few lines.…” Her eyes stung. She looked at the judge. “Papa was always so strong. It horrified me to think about him dying, but I couldn’t quit reading what he wrote.”

  “You admit to having read the will before I unsealed it last month.”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  Nate slapped the table, and Judge Sutton glared his direction then refocused on her.

  “So you found a man willing to marry you quickly so you could keep your father’s ranch.” His tone was accusing. “Did you plan to remain married after you’d secured the property?”

  Remain married? Dizziness swept her. She gripped the edges of her chair and looked at Ash.

  “What’s your answer, Mrs. Rutherford?” the judge prodded.

  Honor looked at him. “Of course. Marriage is nothing to trifle with.”

  “No, it’s not. And yet I understand why your brother believes your marriage to be a fraud.”

  Her heart pounded. She wasn’t the first woman to marry for such reasons. Probably half the women advertising in the Matrimonial News had similar purposes.

  Ash stood. “Your Honor, I object.”

  The judge threw Ash a heated gaze. “On what grounds?”

  “If I might see Orrin Cahill’s will, I will explain.”

  Judge Sutton held out the paper to Ash. He stepped out from behind the table, tall and handsome, despite the green-hued bruises he still wore. He twitched a little smile at Honor and took the paper.

  After skimming the page, he looked up. “The will states, ‘After much deliberation, I choose to give the remainder of my land to Honor, under the condition that she is married upon the reading of this will. If Honor is unmarried, my executor, Teagan Donovan, should sell the land and cattle within sixty days at a fair value determined by the court.’”

  “And?” the judge barked.

  “Orrin Cahill never stipulated that his daughter be in love, or how long she’d have to have been married, just that she be married prior to the will’s reading. She met the condition. There’s no purpose in proceeding with this.”

  Honor closed her eyes, her chest swelling with pride. Surely that would be enough. Thank You, Lord.

  “Overruled, Mr. Rutherford. I’m the one wearing the title of judge. I certainly don’t need some Harvard upstart telling me how to run my courtroom.”

  Honor flung her eyes wide, thoughts reeling.

  Ash frowned. “I meant no disrespect, Your Honor.”

  “Then watch yourself, young man.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ash gave a conciliatory nod. “But as my wife’s counsel, may I ask her a few questions?”

  The confidence in his voice quieted the lightning coursing in her veins.

  Another flash of irritation from the judge. “You may.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Ash turned to Honor. “The day we married, did you love me?” Answer honestly. “No. I didn’t even know you.”

  “How long did you plan to stay married to me?”

  “I vowed until death do us part.”

  The cleft in his chin deepened with his smile. “So you meant those vows?”

  She could drown in his dark gaze. “I wouldn’t have taken them if I didn’t.”

  “At the risk of sounding self-serving, have you developed feelings for me since we married?”

  Heat swept over her, warming her to her toes. “Yes. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  For one breathless moment, all was still. Then, spell broken, Ash walked back to the table. “I’m done, Your Honor.”

  The judge dismissed Honor.

  “Mr. Cahill, do you have anything to add?”

  “Nope. She confirmed my point.”

  “Then we’ll recess for a half hour while I consider my verdict.”

  Head pounding, Ash drew the team to a halt in front of the house. Honor raced to the door, sobs wrenching her slender frame, and fumbled to pull the key from her pocket. “Honor, wait.” He set the brake and stood.

  She yanked the door open and disappeared inside.

  His shoulders slumped. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to talk to him. She had counted on him to outmaneuver Nate in the courtroom, and he’d failed.

  His thoughts spiraled. It made no sense. She’d met the requirement of her father’s will. She was married prior to the reading. That should have been enough for her to keep the ranch. Even Judge Sutton said so at the will’s reading. But …

  “Mrs. Rutherford, your foreknowledge of the contents gave you unfair advantage. You worked your circumstances so the will would favor you. Therefore, I rule in Nathaniel Cahill’s favor. The ranch shall be sold under the provisions set forth in the will.”

  Ash rubbed at his throbbing forehead. Nate had threatened to get the ranch since the reading a month ago, but by contesting it, he’d only forced Rancho Regalo de Esperanza to be sold. It wouldn’t transfer into his hands. The only way Nate could get the land was if it failed to sell within sixty days, and it was doubtful a prime piece of land like this, offered at a reasonable price, would fail to sell.

  So why contest the will? Was Nate so selfish that if he couldn’t have it, he’d keep Honor from having it, too?

  Ash collected his suit coat from the wagon and trudged inside. His eyes strayed to the worn settee where Honor often curled up to read of an evening. Empty. Dare he head upstairs to comfort his wife when he had no answers?

  Before marrying her, he knew nothing of lack and little of physical labor. He’d thought himself a good boxer and lawyer, but Nate had beaten him soundly in both. He wouldn’t blame her if s
he never spoke to him again, especially since she’d married him to keep her ranch, and it was lost. Would she reconsider their marriage? Iron talons gripped his chest until he couldn’t draw breath.

  Lord, no, please. As long as I have You—and her—I can make it. Please let her feel the same way.

  The telltale sounds of her crying met his ears. He laid his coat over the back of the settee and paced to the stairs.

  Lord, does she want me?

  He wanted her. If her feelings were the same, they could find a way. Muscles weak, he climbed the stairs.

  “Honor?” He knocked on her half-closed door. No answer, so he peeked inside.

  She lay on her bed, shoulders trembling, brown curls loosed from their pins.

  “May I come in?”

  Tear-filled blue eyes turned his way, and she nodded.

  An unadorned vanity, a small writing desk, a cedar chest, and her bed furnished the only room he hadn’t yet entered. Halfway to her bed, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “I’m sorry. I …” He gritted his teeth. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He’d promised it was nothing. He’d delivered … a whole lot of nothing. No home. No livelihood. In one stroke.

  “I was born in this house. Everywhere I look, there are memories.”

  Searing pain like a red-hot knife slashed through his chest. He swallowed. “I know.” He’d been here only a month, yet it held some good memories for him. How many more for her?

  “Where will we go now, Ash?”

  We …? A tendril of hope sprouted in his belly.

  She pushed herself up, curls framing her face. Striking blue eyes full of fear and expectation met his.

  “Say that again.”

  Confusion etched her features. “Where will we go now?”

  We. So she did want him. The talons eased their grip. “We’ll figure something out.”

  Her face contorted. “Please hold me.”

  Gladly. Ash sat, back against the headboard, and Honor crawled into his arms and rested her head against his chest. She trembled.

  He smoothed her hair and twined his fingers into the curls. So soft.

  She dragged in a big breath and ran her finger over the buttons of his shirt. “Is God taking the ranch because of how we married?”

  His heart stalled. “Do you think He’s punishing us?”

  She shrugged. “We just did everything so fast. We didn’t get to know each other at all before we tied the knot. It’s not the usual way.”

  No, it wasn’t. But he’d come to love her in a short time, and she’d just said she loved him. “Perhaps that’s the wrong perspective.”

  “How so?”

  “If we hadn’t married, you would have lost the ranch, and you’d be on your own. Ellie and Teagan would do all they could for you, but for how long? At some point, you’d have to stand on your own.” He brushed her hair back again, drinking in the curves of her face and her full lips. “What if God brought us together, even by unconventional means, so you wouldn’t face losing the ranch by yourself?”

  Honor’s chin quivered. “So you think God meant to bring us together … to get through this.”

  “Not just this.” He cupped his hand behind her head. “Everything.”

  Their lips met, a deep, lingering exchange that made his heart race. His free hand skimmed toward her hip, though he let it range no farther. Honor broke the kiss but remained close, exposing her neck as if inviting him to trail his lips across her tender flesh. He blinked, tried to resist, but her warmth and softness overrode thought. His lips against her throat, a stuttering gasp spilled out of her. Shivers cascaded through him, and he pulled her into his lap. As his mouth reached the neckline of her dress, she fumbled to unfasten the top button.

  Reason returned, and he pushed her away. They locked eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

  Eyes sparkling, she smiled shyly and reached for the button. “My hands are trembling. Would you help me?”

  His own hands shaking a little, he assisted her then unbuttoned his own shirt. He slid his fingers beneath her dress bodice and slowly revealed her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, and more.

  Chapter 11

  Another empty crate in hand, Honor turned back inside. The once-homey room stood stark and empty, shelves and furnishings nearly bare. Her eyes misted. She didn’t want to remember it this way.

  Pull yourself together, Honor. You’ve got work to do.

  Thanks to Teagan and Ellie, they wouldn’t be homeless. The one-room cabin on the far reaches of the Donovans’ ranch would suit until they could find something permanent.

  After placing the box on the floor by the shelves, she reached for the old family Bible. She paused, opened to the record pages in the front. There, Mama and Papa’s marriage was listed among other family members’. The blank lines below Mama’s and Papa’s names stared up at her. Their names—hers and Ash’s—belonged there now. It finally felt right. She closed the cover and headed upstairs to the office, Bible in hand.

  Ash sat at Papa’s desk, feet propped on the corner, stacks of papers covering the surface. Hands stilling on the stack in his hands, his eyes lit up as she entered. “What are you doing?”

  “Thought I would record our marriage in the Bible before I pack it away.” Her eyes misted again. She gulped back the emotion and marched toward the desk.

  His feet on the floor, Ash tugged her into his lap. She giggled, and as she lifted the book onto the desk, Ash nuzzled her neck. His whiskers tickled her skin, and the Bible fell flat on the desktop. Papers skittered in all directions, cascading to the floor.

  Ash chuckled. “Oops. Sorry about that … sweetness.”

  Honor twisted toward him, her eyes narrowing.

  Mock concern flashed across his face. “Uh-oh. You’re not going to stomp my foot again, are you?”

  Honor stifled a giggle and tried—failed—to look threatening. “Not this time.” Not ever.

  “Good. Then clean up the mess you just made.” A devilish smile brought out the cleft in his chin.

  She planted a fist against her hip. “Oh no. You made that mess. You deal with it.”

  Ash laughed. “If you state it that way … yes, ma’am.”

  She twisted forward and opened the Bible. Ash wrapped his arms around her waist, peeking around her as she retrieved Papa’s pen and wrote their names.

  “There.” Honor bent to blow on the wet ink. Ash also bent and puckered, only his warm breath caressed the back of her ear and stirred a loose tendril of her hair. She laughed and squirmed as shivers raced over her skin.

  “You, Mr. Rutherford, are an incorrigible tease.”

  A roguish glint lit his brown eyes. “And you like it.”

  Honor bit her lip. Yes, she did. But it wasn’t conducive to getting any work done.

  She peeled his arms from around her middle and stood. He grinned playfully as he rose, and she ducked away toward the door. Rather than follow her, he bent to retrieve the papers.

  “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” She rounded the corner into the hall and started down the steps.

  She was nearly to the bottom when he called. “Honor? You might want to see this.” The teasing tone had disappeared.

  Concern overshadowed her thoughts. Setting the Bible on the step, she scrambled back to the office. “What’s wrong?”

  “I found something among the fallen papers.” Expression serious, Ash handed her an envelope.

  Her father’s distinctive scrawl embellished the front.

  To Honor on your 21st Birthday. Love, Papa.

  His voice rang in her mind as if from the grave. She covered her mouth with a suddenly trembling hand.

  “Come sit with me.” Ash guided her to the chair, settled himself, and pulled her into his lap again.

  She could only stare at the paper, head resting on Ash’s shoulder.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, eyes moistening. “Maybe it’s foolish, bu
t this is the last gift I’ll ever get from him. I want to make it last forever.”

  He rubbed her back. “I understand, but what good is an unopened gift? Open it.”

  Ash was right, yet still she hesitated. She ran her finger over the scrawled words then heaved a breath and broke the seal. She removed the papers, smoothing them before she began to read.

  I, Orrin Cahill, deed the 2,500-acre parcel of land shown, now currently part of my holdings on Rancho Regalo de Esperanza, to my daughter, Honor Katherine Cahill. The property shall be hers solely, with no restrictions or liens. Also, she may select eighty head of cattle from my herd. The transfer of all notated properties shall become effective on September 1, 1875, Honor’s twenty-first birthday.

  Signed, Orrin Augustus Cahill, on this day, June 25, 1875.

  She stared at the bold script, thoughts moving like cold tar. The map of Rancho Regalo de Esperanza indicated the parcel with a thick line and shading to set it apart.

  “Ash …” Hands trembling, she held the paper up.

  “I read it.”

  Papa gave her land? But … “What does this mean?”

  “It seems pretty straightforward.”

  “I mean in light of the will and the outcome of the hearing … the land being sold.”

  After a moment, Ash pushed her up and scrambled after her. “It means we need to get over to Teagan’s place and make sure he doesn’t sell the ranch before we can get to town to see a judge.”

  Lord, please—please—let us get in to see the judge today. Honor deserves a proper home, even if it’s not the one she’s always known.

  Ash turned the wagon toward the courthouse. On horseback, Teagan rode beside them. The fact their friend had come along was a comfort. Perhaps the judge would look more favorably on him, a longtime resident of the area and executor of the will, since he had seemed unimpressed with Ash and his education during the recent hearing.

  “Ash!” A familiar voice rang above the noisy streets.

  He slowed the wagon and looked around. From an open second-story window in a nearby building, Eliza and Lucy waved.

  Jaw slack, Ash stopped, and Teagan drew up just ahead of them.

  “Who’s this?” Teagan called.