Mail-Order Grooms: The Complete Boxed Set

by Amelia Smarts

  On it went, praising him for having manners and being able to dance. It was preposterous, but Roderick puffed up with pride at this stranger’s frank appreciation of his trifling note. Toward the end of the letter, she explained that she was the daughter of a ranch foreman, who everyone thought should marry a cowboy, but she wanted someone different from the rough-edged men around town, and that was why she had written an ad in the paper.

  This pleased Roderick greatly, as he shared her desire for a new and exciting romance. He moved to his desk and penned a response, similar in length, telling her about himself and his interests. He told her that he too was looking for a different sort of woman than those in his neighborhood and that he was most impressed by her plain and honest communication with him. He finished the letter by making clear his intentions.

  At the risk of sounding too forward, Miss Blake, I would like to make your acquaintance sooner rather than later. Provided that you respond to my wish favorably, I shall summarily set out for the west.

  Awaiting your reply with much anticipation. Yours truly,

  Roderick Mason

  ***

  Six months later

  The train screeched to a halt at the Virginia City stop. Roderick had never been so glad to arrive anywhere as he did at that station. It had been a long, arduous journey of more than two thousand miles, some of it by stagecoach, most by train, that in its entirety took nearly a month. He peered out the window, looking for a woman with long, dark hair, as Betsy had described herself in her second of three letters to him. His eyes fell on someone of her appearance, looking wide-eyed and terribly nervous, and he knew without a doubt it was her. He smiled as he observed her sweet flushed face and slender but womanly figure. She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined.

  He stood with the other passengers. A weary but positive hum of voices surrounded him. All were relieved to be at Virginia City. For some, like him, it was their final destination. Others would enjoy a chance to stretch their legs before boarding again and heading to California. Roderick took quick inventory of his clothes and brushed off some lint from his trousers. Everything he wore was brand new. His shirt was crisp white under a black leather vest, a casual look made slightly more formal by the western-style tie around his neck that he’d never worn before that day.

  He hoped he didn’t appear like too much of a greenhorn. He wanted to blend in with the other men, but he also wanted to stand out enough that Betsy would be impressed by him. Never before had he felt so nervous and excited as he did while walking to the front exit of the train. It struck him that he’d never before been nervous to meet a woman, no matter her status, but now a sweet little country girl was setting his heart a-racing.

  Roderick stepped down to the platform and gave the porter a dollar to fetch his luggage. Betsy was staring straight at him with her mouth slightly agape. After gathering his courage, he removed his hat and walked toward her, his boots clicking against the wood of the platform. Her eyes grew wider the closer he got. What struck him immediately upon reaching her was how young and wholesome she looked. She wore a modest, light-blue satin dress. Tied about her slim waist was a navy-blue sash. Her dark hair was neatly plaited in one long braid that fell forward over her left shoulder.

  “Miss Betsy Blake?” Roderick asked.

  She closed her mouth, gulped, and nodded, then opened her mouth as though to speak, but no words came out. Her nervousness endeared her to him. The women he’d courted in New York seemed to know immediately all the right words to say to try to charm him. But here was someone who was inexperienced in the art of snagging a man and she’d already managed to charm him, just by being tongue-tied and staring at him with those big, hazel eyes.

  My oh my, he would enjoy that wide-eyed expression on her face as he pleasured her body in ways she couldn’t dream of. He imagined her on her back with his manhood fully inside of her, stretching her core and claiming her as his as she enjoyed an earth-shattering orgasm. He would be gentle as he deflowered her but, by the end of their lovemaking, there would be no question as to who that pretty little face belonged to.

  He pushed his lustful thoughts aside, smiled kindly, and attempted to put her at ease. “I’m Roderick Mason. It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Blake.”

  After a bit more struggling, she found her tongue. She held out a dainty hand and said shyly, “I’m very pleased to meet you too, Roderick.”

  A zip of pleasure shot through him. Sweet Jesus! That’s her voice? Roderick didn’t think he’d ever heard a voice quite so lovely. It was soft and musical, a slow drawl so different from the clipped speech patterns in New York, and the way she said his name caused a stirring in his trousers. It was very unusual for a woman to speak a man’s Christian name upon first meeting him, especially without permission, but her ignorance in that particular etiquette pleased him greatly.

  He enclosed her small hand in his. Her delicate, slim fingers and palm fit so neatly in his hand that he didn’t want to let it go right away. “Since you’re calling me Roderick, might I call you Betsy?”

  She blushed. “Y-yes, of course. I’m sorry, I should have asked—“

  “Nonsense, Betsy,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it. “I’m very happy to have you call me by my given name. We are not strangers, after all.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, her cheeks still pink. She gave him a shy, grateful smile.

  It dawned on him suddenly that she was there without a chaperone. Surely her father or a male relative would have wanted to be on the platform with her to ensure her safety upon meeting him?

  He cleared his throat. “I would love the pleasure of your company this evening, my dear, after I unpack and refresh myself at the hotel. Might we eat together somewhere?”

  A darker blush crept up her cheeks. She fluttered her long, delicate lashes a few times, but unlike the women he’d courted previously, there was no artfulness in the motion. “Mary’s Restaurant is open late. W-we could eat there,” she suggested.

  “That would be just fine, though now I feel like a bit of a scoundrel. I had hoped to make the acquaintance of your father or other chaperone so that I might tell him my intentions and ask permission before courting you. I know it would only be a gesture, since you are of an age to make your own decisions, but it’s the courteous thing to do.”

  A flash of worry crossed her face. She looked down at her feet and swirled the toe of her boot around some sand on the platform.

  “Is that not pleasing to you?” Roderick asked, confused by her reaction to something he assumed would be as customary in the west as it was in the east.

  “It’s just that….” She paused and reluctantly looked at him, blinking rapidly. “My parents are in the next town buying grain and….” She drew a deep breath. “I didn’t tell them about my newspaper advertisement or about you coming here.”

  That news shocked him. Did she not realize how inappropriate it was to meet a man like this, not to mention potentially dangerous?

  She must have noticed the censure in his gaze because her worried look deepened. He continued to give her an inquisitive stare, knowing he might appear severe, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. She seemed so young and vulnerable, and he felt inclined to set her straight about proper behavior, but it surely wasn’t his place. If her father were around, he would discuss the matter with him. Of course, if her father were there, it wouldn’t be an issue in the first place.

  It turned out that he didn’t need to decide what to do next, for Betsy made the decision for him. Her eyes suddenly sparkled with tears. Without saying another word, she grasped her skirts in both hands, turned, and dashed away from him. He watched her flee until she was no longer in sight.

  Well, he thought to himself wryly. I wanted challenge and adventure. Looks like I found it.

  He wondered if she would return to meet him at Mary’s Restaurant in the evening. He guessed not. Later, he would need to figure out where she lived and set out to
call on her. By that time, he hoped to have figured out how to approach the matter of her not telling her family about him.

  What he wanted to do was turn her over his knee and spank her for that bit of foolishness. He hated to think what might have happened to her if she’d secretly met a man with less-than-honorable intentions. His inclination to discipline her surprised him. He’d engaged in spanking several women in the boudoir, but this was different. His desire to punish her came from another place inside of him, a protective, serious place that had never been stirred so strongly.

  Chapter Three

  Betsy sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her, all the way to the Harringtons’ cabin. She’d been spending most of her time there for several days, ever since her parents had left at Adam’s behest to buy grain in the next town. When she burst through the door, huffing and puffing, Susannah jumped to her feet from her chair in the sitting room. “Betsy! Whatever is the matter?”

  “Oh, Mrs. Harrington,” she panted. “I’ve done something so foolish.” She rushed into Susannah’s arms.

  Susannah held her tightly. “Good heavens. What happened?”

  Betsy only whimpered and breathed hard, clinging to Susannah for comfort.

  “Everything will be all right, honey. Just catch your breath a moment.” She guided her to a chair. “Sit right here while I get you some tea.”

  Betsy tried to compose herself as Susannah brewed the tea. By the time she began to sip the warm drink, she’d calmed down and was breathing normally, though she was still overcome with consternation.

  “Now,” Susannah said, taking a seat next to her. “Tell me what happened.”

  Betsy explained how she’d secretly posted an advertisement in the paper, thinking it would be a good idea to find a husband in that way, since it had worked out so well for Susannah. Her older friend’s expression changed often during Betsy’s account of the details, but her most frequent look was one of surprise.

  “I met him on the platform, and all of a sudden it became… real. He’s so very proper and handsome, everything I want. And I thought to myself, there is no way he could ever want a simple country girl like me. I panicked and ran away.”

  Susannah leaned back in her chair. “Land’s sake, Betsy. Did he come expecting to marry you?”

  “I don’t know,” Betsy said with dismay. “He never asked me, but my advertisement in the paper did say I was looking for a husband. In his first letter to me, he said he wanted to make my acquaintance in person. The two other letters he sent me did not discuss marriage. They only expressed excitement over meeting me and how well he thought we would get along.”

  A look of relief infused Susannah’s features. “All right, that’s good. I think it’s best to get to know him a little bit and find out what he expects to do here. Did he mention his occupation?”

  “Yes,” Betsy said, feeling more foolish by the minute. “He’s an architect.” She’d had to ask her former schoolteacher what that was, since she’d never heard of such a job before reading Roderick’s telegram.

  “Hm. Don’t reckon there’s much need for architects out here. And your parents know nothing of this?”

  She shook her head. “I knew they would disapprove. That’s why I didn’t say anything.” A tear slid down her face.

  Susannah reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s a little frightening, I know, but now you must make the best of it. He wants to get to know you, and you ran away without giving him the opportunity.”

  Betsy looked down. “He looked displeased that my father wasn’t escorting me. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on his face.”

  “Ah!” Susannah said, releasing her hand and leaning back in her chair. She smiled. “Another good sign. He is a man of honor, if he wishes to speak to your father.”

  Betsy felt a glimmer of hope over Susannah’s approval. “You think so?”

  She nodded. “That would be my guess. Since your pa isn’t here, I think Adam should take you to town and make sure you’re safe when you meet this gentleman again. In fact, I think he’ll insist on it. I know he feels protective of you, especially after the incidents with Johnny.”

  Betsy looked away. Susannah’s mention of Johnny caused a shiver to go through her body. No one knew it, but she’d received two more notes from Johnny since the first one left on her pillow. The notes were short but scary. One listed all the places she’d been on that particular day, leaving no doubt that he was following her. The other letter expressed anger, blaming her for him losing his job at the ranch. He said it was her fault he was strapped for cash and the least she could do was spend a few hours with him.

  Both notes contained dead butterflies like the first. The butterfly’s wings in the second note were ripped, and the butterfly in the third note was missing a wing entirely. Betsy wasn’t sure whether including mutilated butterflies was intentional on Johnny’s part, or if the damage had happened somehow in transit, but it scared her nonetheless.

  She hadn’t mentioned these latest notes to the Harringtons or to her parents because she worried that if Johnny found out that she’d told them, he’d harass her even more. He’d already lost his job. Wouldn’t he be even angrier if he got in trouble again? She could only hope that if she avoided him for long enough, he’d eventually lose interest and leave her alone.

  ***

  Adam returned home in the late afternoon and listened to Susannah recount Betsy’s predicament. His face remained impassive until she explained that Betsy’s parents didn’t know anything about the advertisement or that the gentleman was in town to court her. He glanced at Betsy with a stern look that made her want to run for the hills once again.

  When Susannah finished the story by suggesting that Adam go with her to meet Roderick again, he said with a frown, “I don’t know about that, darlin’. Perhaps Betsy should wait until Timothy gets back from Caston. If I had a daughter who did such a thing, I’d want to be around while she got to know the fellow.”

  Betsy felt very small and ridiculous as the two of them continued the conversation as though she wasn’t there.

  “We can’t just ignore him, Adam,” Susannah insisted. “Imagine if you had traveled all the way here, only to be ignored. Timothy and Lou might not be back for a couple weeks yet.”

  Adam rubbed the beard along his jaw. “I suppose you’re right.” He reached for the hat he’d just hung on the hook next to the door. Clapping it on his head, he said, “Come along, Betsy. Let’s go see your Mr. Mason.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Right now?” she squeaked. “But don’t you need to eat supper or something? Rest a little?” She didn’t feel ready to face Roderick. Not yet.

  But Adam was ready to get down to business. “I can rest and eat in town. I think it might be a good idea to have supper with him, yeah?”

  She froze, suddenly remembering something she’d told Roderick. “Oh, dear. I actually… already said I’d have supper with him at Mary’s.”

  “That settles it then.” He kissed Susannah’s cheek and walked to the front door, which he held open. “Let’s go.”

  Betsy walked past him outside, feeling like a naughty child being led to punishment. She looked back at Susannah, who gave her an encouraging smile. She returned a nervous one.

  The one-mile walk to town ended far too quickly for Betsy, who felt more terrified with every step. Of the two, Susannah was certainly the more nurturing one. Adam provided no words of encouragement or comfort. His face appeared severe, and Betsy worried that she’d disappointed or angered him somehow. Worse, she worried that any negative feelings Adam was having might exist tenfold in Roderick.

  “D-do you think he will be upset with me, Mr. Harrington, for running away?” she asked Adam tentatively.

  “Perhaps, but I think he will be more upset that no one but you knew about his arrival. You are very young to be drawing up such a scheme.”

  “I’m eighteen,” she said, a bit sullenly.

  Adam looked at over at
her with a raised brow. “Mm hmm. As I said, very young.”

  Betsy stopped suddenly. “Oh, no.” She moaned and rocked back on her heels, suddenly remembering that she’d lied about her age in her advertisement. Roderick thought she was twenty-five.

  “Betsy? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said, her lower lip quivering. She couldn’t bear to admit to Adam, or Roderick for that matter, that she had lied. “Just nervous, I suppose.”

  For the first time since learning about Roderick, Adam’s severe expression softened. “Chin up. I’d wager that Mr. Mason feels just as nervous as you do.”

  Adam didn’t know her true reason for dismay at that moment, but his words did provide a small measure of comfort nonetheless. She nodded and drew on what little courage she possessed to continue.

  They reached the hotel, a green, three-story building near the center of town. “We’re here to see Mr. Roderick Mason,” Adam told the hotel manager at the front desk. “Do you know if he’s in his room?”

  The manager, a portly man with spectacles hanging on the edge of his nose, looked up over them at Adam. “Yes, I do believe he is. He checked in earlier and I haven’t seen him leave since.”

  “Which room, please?”

  He lowered his voice. “Room 9. Not supposed to say, but I know you. Go up the stairs, turn right.”

  Adam led the way up the steps, with Betsy following behind, her heart thumping as fast as a nervous rabbit’s.

  Outside room 9, Adam placed a firm hand on Betsy’s back. He must have sensed that she was about to bolt, for his hand on her back served less as comfort and more as a stake keeping her in place. Adam knocked on the door. After what seemed like an eternity, Betsy heard shuffling and then a short time later, Roderick opened the door.

  He’d cleaned up, which made him look even handsomer than Betsy remembered. His newly washed dark hair was still damp and slicked back. The distinct smell of pine soap filled Betsy’s senses. He wore a clean white shirt not buttoned up the full way, exposing a hard chest with wisps of dark hair. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned, muscular forearms.