by Renee Ryan
Rolling free, Jonathon scrambled to a standing position and glared at his brother-in-law, who was poised on the balls of his feet. Hunter’s determined gaze communicated a silent message Jonathon fully understood.
He wasn’t getting past Fanny’s brother.
Grimacing, he glanced up at the second-floor window. Please, Lord, let this be over for her soon.
God answered his prayer a half hour later. Annabeth burst out the front door, a wide smile on her face.
Relief nearly brought Jonathon to his knees. “How is my wife?”
“Tired, but fine. May all the future births in this family go so well.” The woman glided over to him and patted his cheek with affection. “Now, it’s time you went upstairs and met your daughter.”
“A daughter? I have a daughter?”
“She’s beautiful. She has your dark hair and her mother’s beautiful face and—”
Jonathon didn’t need to hear the rest. He darted into the house and up the stairs three at a time.
He surged through the open doorway and froze a moment to take in the sight of his wife and brand-new daughter. He nearly wept in relief. Fanny was sitting up in bed, smiling one of her secret smiles that always managed to reach inside his heart and grip hard.
Someone had helped her bathe and change into a fresh nightgown. In her arms, she held a small bundle swaddled in soft cotton.
“We’ll leave you three alone,” Mrs. Mitchell said as she and Callie retreated from the room.
“Don’t just stand there,” Fanny said. “Come over here and say hello to your new daughter.”
He gingerly moved to the bed and sat beside his wife. Eyes stinging, he kissed her softly on the lips, then glanced down at the child in her arms. The tears came then, tears of wonder and joy. Their daughter was perfectly formed, fair-skinned like her mother, with a remarkable quantity of coal-black hair.
“What should we name her?” Fanny asked.
He’d already given the question considerable thought. “Mary Amelia Hawkins, after your mother and mine.”
Fanny gave a delighted laugh. “We are of one mind, except for a small variance. I’m thinking Amelia Mary Hawkins has a much nicer ring to it.”
“Either version will do. I’ll leave you the final decision, since bringing her into this world was completely up to you.” He settled in beside her, ran a fingertip down the infant’s cheek. “You did amazing, Mrs. Hawkins.”
Fanny grinned up at him. “I did, didn’t I?”
He smiled into his wife’s eyes. She’d brought light into his life, and now the future stretched before them with endless possibilities.
“Are you happy, Jonathon?”
“Unashamedly so. I love you, Fanny.” He dropped a tender kiss to her forehead. “May the Lord continue to favor our family with His many blessings, now and in the days to come.”
“What a lovely prayer.” Her eyelids drooped.
“Before you drift off to sleep, I have a gift for you.”
“Oh, Jonathon, I have everything I need.”
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the document Reese had given him upon their arrival.
Her eyes widened. “What in the world is that?”
“It’s a deed in your name to a piece of land just north of here.”
“But what will I do with my own piece of land?”
“We’ll talk more after you’ve rested a bit.”
“I want to know now.”
He smiled. He would give this woman anything she asked of him.
“There’s a run-down train depot on the property.” He explained his original reasons for wanting to build on the land. “I hope you’ll join me in creating a train stop to rival all stops. It will be our legacy, together.”
He paused, thought of his mother, of the desperation that had led her to make bad decisions out of terrible choices. “We’ll pay our employees a fair wage, give them on-the-job training, as well as provide room and board for them and their children.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“We could name the stop Mitchellville.”
“I like it.” Her smile lit her face from within. “But I have just one question.”
“Ask me anything.”
“When can we break ground?”
The question signified what he’d already known. Fanny was his perfect match and of a like mind in nearly everything that mattered. They were going to have a good life together. “We’ll start building as soon as possible.”
“Nice.” She snuggled against him.
He kissed her nose, moved to her cheek and then finally landed on her mouth, lingering there for several long heartbeats.
Fanny was the heart of him, his ideal mate, his savvy business partner and the mother of his precious daughter.
Jonathon hadn’t wanted a wife, and definitely hadn’t thought a baby would ever be in his future. Now, he had both.
He had the family he’d always wanted but never believed could be his. Not a happy ending, no, but a happy beginning.
A very happy beginning.
*
Dear Reader,
I can scarcely believe this is the ninth book in my Charity House series, a series that started with a simple question. What did women who made their living in brothels do when they found themselves in the family way? The answer to that question brought me to the sad reality of baby farms in the Old West. And so began a unique set of stories focused around an orphanage for unplanned and often unwanted children. I hope you’ve enjoyed each book in the series as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.
I must confess. Some books are harder to write than others. This one fell into the “others” category. In many ways, Jonathon’s story was all the children’s story. I wanted to do right by him and give him the happily-ever-after he deserved. Who better for him to end up with than a woman with the last name Mitchell? Now Jonathon has five brothers, a brother-in-law and a sister. His and Fanny’s future, as well as their children’s, will be filled with vast amounts of faith, hope and love. That’s what I call a happy ending.
We’ve come full circle with this book. Many of you have sent emails asking if there will be more stories to come. Keep checking my website www.reneeryan.com and Facebook page ReneeRyanBooks for updates.
In the meantime, happy reading!
Cheers!
Renee
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.
You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.
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ISBN-13: 9781460384954
The Marriage Agreement
Copyright © 2015 by Renee Halverson
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by a
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Lassoing the Cowgirl
Rosamond Northam’s plans of building a high school take an unexpected turn when her father informs her she’ll be overseeing construction of a new hotel instead—with Englishman Garrick Wakefield. The newly arrived aristocrat seems to turn his nose up at all she loves about her Colorado hometown. The man is entirely insufferable…yet undoubtedly handsome.
Garrick wants nothing more than to prove himself to his uncle, who has backed the building of this hotel. But he finds himself ever at odds with his pretty cowgirl partner over the plans. The American West is so different from his British home, but with Rosamond showing him the ropes, maybe he’ll commit to Western life…and a Western lass.
Four Stones Ranch: Love finds a home out West
As Garrick walked toward her, that perfect smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t be stern with him. Not with her heart fluttering like a baby bird trying to fly for the first time.
Garrick reached her in seconds. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was one fine-looking cowboy. Fine-looking, yes. Cowboy, definitely no. During his short stay at Four Stones, he’d shown very little interest in ranch life.
“Good morning, Rosamond. You’re the picture of beauty, as always.”
She smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”
He doffed that silly white Stetson she’d forced him to accept and gave her a sweeping bow. “My lady, at your service. Do you have steers to rope? Calves to brand? Cows to milk? I am yours to command.”
His offer, delivered in the English accent she was beginning to love, brought laughter from the children nearby. At a glance, she could see they were entirely too interested in her conversation with Garrick.
“No branding today, but you can help me round up these mavericks so we can get their three-legged race started.”
“I can do that.” He studied the children almost like a schoolmaster, giving her heart another lurch. Where had that thought come from?
Florida author and college professor Louise M. Gouge writes historical fiction for Harlequin’s Love Inspired Historical series. In addition to other awards, she has received the prestigious Inspirational Readers’ Choice and the Laurel Wreath Awards. When she isn’t writing or teaching her classes, she and her husband, David, enjoy visiting historical sites and museums. Please visit her website at blog.louisemgouge.com.
Books by Louise M. Gouge
Love Inspired Historical
Four Stones Ranch
Cowboy to the Rescue
Cowboy Seeks a Bride
Cowgirl for Keeps
Ladies in Waiting
A Proper Companion
A Suitable Wife
A Lady of Quality
Love Thine Enemy
The Captain’s Lady
At the Captain’s Command
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles
Cowgirl for Keeps
By Louise M. Gouge
Delight thyself also in the Lord,
and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
—Psalms 37:4
This book is dedicated to the intrepid pioneers who settled the San Luis Valley of Colorado in the mid-to late 1800s. They could not have found a more beautiful place to make their homes than in this vast 7500-foot-high valley situated between the majestic Sangre de Cristo and San Juan Mountain ranges. It has been many years since I lived in the San Luis Valley, so my thanks go to Pam Williams of Hooper, Colorado, for her extensive on-site research on my behalf. With their permission, I named two of my characters after her and her husband, Charlie. These dear old friends are every bit as kind and wise as their namesakes. I also want to thank my dear husband of fifty years, David Gouge, for his loving support as I pursue my dream of writing love stories to honor the Lord.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Chapter One
Denver, Colorado
May 1883
“I tell you, Percy, my uncle’s American enterprise will be a disaster. Look at these ragtag masses.” Garrick Wakefield waved a dismissive hand toward the crowds milling about the Denver train station. His gesture stirred up the stench of burning coal and unwashed bodies. “It’s far worse than I expected.”
Most travelers on the platform beneath them were clearly lower class. Unkempt children dashed about with no parental restraint. Cowboys—he shuddered at the term—wore guns strapped to their dusty, wrinkled trousers. Beggars sat against the depot’s brick walls, their hands lifted in supplication to all passersby. In grating American accents, hawkers advertised their wares. How Garrick longed for a pastoral English countryside.
“Tut, tut, old man. It’s not so bad.” Percy, ever the optimist, could afford to overlook the chaos. A cousin from Garrick’s mother’s family, with an unentailed inheritance to spend as he wished, Percy didn’t face a future dependent upon another man’s whimsy. “I find this country delightful.”
“Indeed? How so?” Garrick spied a mother on the lower platform struggling with tattered baggage and several children. Compassion welled up inside him. Where was the woman’s husband? If he could get through the tangled crowd, he’d offer to help. Why didn’t one of those cowboys or another closer man lend a hand? Their neglect validated Garrick’s disdain for the lot of them. If she came closer, he’d step down and offer assistance.
“Look at the beautiful scenery.” Percy indicated the mountains to the west. “Every bit as majestic as the Scottish Highlands, what?” His eyes brightened. “Can you not feel the call to climb them?”
“I’ll grant you that. But remember the endless rivers and plains we crossed to get here.” At least they’d traveled by train, not in oxen-drawn covered wagons such as those they’d passed along the way. “Too much wasteland.”
A conductor called “All aboard,” and the crowd moved toward the train’s open doors, where uniformed porters assisted passengers up the steps. A quick glance down the length of the platform assured Garrick that his and Percy’s valets were seeing to their trunks.
“These Americans have no manners, no refinement. If Uncle could see them, he’d change his mind about this business venture.” After a lifetime of prejudice against all things American, Lord Westbourne had met one single gentleman rancher and revised his opinion of the entire country. He’d sent Garrick to build a hotel, not in Boston or New York or even this growing city of Denver, but in some village in southern Colorado, barely a smudge on the map.
“Come now. Not all Americans are the same.” Percy elbowed Garrick and nodded toward two ladies rising from their seats on the lower platform.
After taking a few steps, the stylishly dressed young misses turned to glance toward Garrick and Percy before moving toward the train. Something struck Garrick’s midsection, and he looked down to see if Percy had hit him. No, the shock was entirely internal and caused by the exquisite girl in the lavender traveling suit and matching hat. Her stunningly beautiful countenance bespoke an English heritage: a porcelain complexion framed by shiny dark brown hair upswept in an attractive coiffure. Her elegant posture and carriage suggested she might very well be used to gracing London’s finest drawing rooms. If propriety didn’t prohibit
his addressing her, he’d step forward straightaway and introduce himself.
“Did you see her?” Percy sounded breathless. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful lady? Why, a man could be tempted to propose on the spot based upon her looks alone.”
Garrick huffed out a sigh. Of course Percy was joking, but with fortune enough to last beyond a lifetime, he could well afford to consider marriage. Conversely, Garrick had lost all such expectations at the age of nineteen when his childless widowed uncle had remarried. His young bride had borne him three healthy sons in his old age. Yet hadn’t Garrick himself encouraged Uncle to remarry in his loneliness? That was as it should be.
However, at the age of twenty-five, instead of anticipating an inheritance of title, wealth and lands, Garrick had been forced to revise his expectations and work for his living. He wouldn’t mind so much if he didn’t also have to provide for Helena’s dowry. His younger sister must make a good match even if Garrick never could.
“Yes, she’s quite lovely.” A melancholy twinge stung inside his chest. Though it would be ill-advised, Percy could pursue the young beauty if he liked. Garrick could only admire her from afar. Or he could redirect his cousin’s attention. “Her companion is rather pleasant looking. Perhaps her ginger hair denotes an Irish heritage.”
“It’s the redhead I admire, cousin.” Percy laughed in his merry way. “As it appears we’ll be on the same train, it’s a shame we’ve no one to introduce us. What a jolly chat we could have with them as we travel.”
Profound relief flooded Garrick’s chest. Which was ridiculous, of course. Even though they fancied different girls, as Percy said, they had no proper way to meet them. Nor would it be wise to do so.
A piercing whistle cut short his thoughts as a westbound train approached on the second track. Garrick glanced toward it and saw a small child, one belonging to the harried young mother, toddle after a red ball between the tracks. Did no one closer see? Driven by horror, Garrick plunged down the steps and through the crowd, using his walking cane to move people aside. Others now saw the danger and cried out.