His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  In all those perfect dreams, she’d never imagined she’d feel so miserable, so heartbroken.

  So alone.

  Her eyes burned and she blinked to chase away tears. She’d been fighting them all morning. Every time she thought of walking down the aisle to marry, her mind conjured images of Rafe standing there waiting for her. Knowing it would be Ben instead nauseated her.

  The letter Harland Samuels had written, giving Ben control of the ranch, sat on her dresser. It hadn’t taken much to get it from him. An offhand comment about needing a husband had been all it took. When Ben offered to marry her, she’d only said yes if he promised to leave Rafe and Jesse alone. To forget about the letter Harland had written.

  Ben laughed at her for even suggesting it. When she stood and walked away, he chased her down, his bloodshot eyes wide and full of anticipation. His gaze had traveled every inch of her, his thick tongue slipping between his lips to moisten them and Grace knew, sickening as it was to think, he was picturing her wearing nothing but skin.

  He’d nodded his head, agreed to letting her have the letter as a gift, and handed it over that very instant. She was sure he thought to get it back and throw Rafe and Jesse off their property, but she’d never let that happen.

  She stared at the letter, knowing every word by heart. She’d read it front to back trying to find anything that would prove it was fake. She’d not found a thing.

  There was a series of loud clangs from the street and Grace turned back to the window. There was commotion near the stagecoach station, Ben bellowing out orders as his men ran to do his bidding. Watching him caused that nauseating fear to swamp her again.

  She turned her head, her gaze landing on the livery stable. A few horses lingered in the coral by the large, two-story barn, but one of them was saddled. Grace watched it, imagined herself climbing into that saddle and riding away. Leaving Ben and Willow Creek as far behind her as she could get. She’d forever miss Rafe, but at least she wouldn’t have to be here, seeing him in town, watching him eventually marry someone that wasn’t her while she was hitched to a man like Ben Crowley.

  She watched that saddled horse until Ben’s shouting once again caught her attention. He turned his head, looked up at her window and smiled at her. She turned away, counting down the minutes until her life was over.

  It looked as if every person who lived in town was on the street. Rafe stared at them all as he and Jesse rode into town.

  Everyone seemed to be on some mission as they hurried along and Rafe looked from sidewalk to sidewalk, his gaze taking in every face as he tried to spot Grace.

  He pulled on the horses reins when he passed in front of the mercantile. The green and pink striped dress Grace had worn the day Morgan put her in a jail cell was hanging in the window of the general store. She’d sold more of her dresses, apparently.

  Continuing down the street, he stopped in front of the hotel, dismounted and tied the horses reins to the hitching post out front before jumping onto the sidewalk and crossing the wooden platform to enter the building.

  The chaos inside was no better. People were shouting, their voices raised to deafening levels, and to Rafe’s surprise, Ben Crowley was in the middle of it all.

  The man caught his eye moments later, his face turning a funny shade of red before his eyes bulged. He lifted one meaty hand and pointed a finger at him. “You,” he shouted. He pushed away from the hotel’s main desk. “What did you do with her? Where’s she at?”

  Rafe raised an eyebrow in question. “Where’s who?”

  Ben’s eyes looked ready to pop from his skull. “Grace,” he yelled. “We can’t find her and I know you’re the reason.”

  Rafe held his emotions in check and hoped his face didn’t show his surprise. Grace was missing? The knowledge gave him hope. He heard Jesse make a sound and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Hopefully he held it together. “I came looking for Grace myself, Ben.”

  The man looked as if he didn’t believe him then stuttered a few times before turning back to Joseph Brighten, the hotel owner and started shouting again. Rafe used their distraction to grab Jesse by the arm and turned to leave.

  Once they were on the sidewalk, Rafe stared down the street. “Grace was staying here in the hotel, wasn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” Jesse said. “She’s been here since Doc Reid took her from our place.”

  Rafe tried to work out where she could have gone, and how. His gaze swept the town before stopping on the coral of horses at the livery station. Caleb Mitchell, the young boy who worked for Percy at the stables was sitting on the fence, his head hung. He’d look up every now and again, a worried expression on his face.

  The longer Rafe stared at him, the more convinced he was that Caleb had seen something. He jumped from the porch and headed across the street, Jesse dogging his every step. The instant he approached the livery stable, Caleb jumped to the ground and ran.

  It took only minutes to catch him and when he did, Rafe knew the kid had seen something. The wild look in his eyes told him so. “Where is she, Caleb? Did you see her leave?”

  The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “She said I wouldn’t get into trouble.”

  “Trouble for what?”

  Caleb, no older than ten, Rafe assumed, swiped at his nose with his shirt sleeve and looked up, his eyes red and puffy. “She took McNally’s horse. Said she’d bring him back.” He cast a worried glance across the street. “I tried to stop her but she climbed into the saddle and rode off.” Caleb turned and pointed down the road. “She went that way.”

  Rafe stared down the stagecoach road in disbelief. The path led to Missoula and there was nothing between here and there but open forest and mountains. The pass was well marked but it was a long, lonely stretch of wilderness.

  And Grace was on it. Alone.

  He let go of Caleb and crossed the road, unhooked his horse from the hitching post and was in the saddle and headed toward Missoula without a word. He rode hard, only glancing to his right when Jesse caught up to him and both of them leaned down over their horses necks and let the animals run. With any luck, they’d catch Grace before dark. If not, they’d have a hell of a time finding her in a city the size of Missoula.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The stagecoach pulled away from the station and Grace closed her eyes. The rattle and squeak of the horses harnesses and the wheels creaking as they rolled over the hardened ground echoing in her head.

  She’d been waiting for the stagecoach for hours, thoughts of her life in Willow Creek since leaving Boston playing inside her head like moving pictures as she did. She’d fought tears the entire time, telling herself this was for the best and she’d almost convinced herself of it.

  Almost.

  But she’d only been lying to herself. She’d left that tiny, close-knit community of Willow Creek behind, hoping to escape her fate, only to have that small voice in the back of her head beg her to go back. To go get the horse she’d taken from the livery stable, jump into the saddle, and go back home. Home to Rafe and Jesse and beg them to let her stay.

  But she knew she couldn’t. Not now.

  Her eyes burned at the thought and she wiped away a stray tear as it slipped past her lashes.

  She’d passed a number of men on the streets of Missoula and any of them would have made a decent husband. She’d even thought of asking someone to help her make a match but the more she thought on the matter, the more miserable she became. She realized she’d never be happy married to anyone but Rafe and had dismissed the idea. She’d resolutely walked to the stagecoach station, checked on a ticket home and waited on the bench outside for the departure time.

  She’d rather die a spinster than be a wife to someone else.

  The hours had ticked by, the air cooling until she’d been forced to seek out the warmth of the fire inside the station and retreated to the building to wait for the stagecoach. When the time came though, she’d just sat there, watching as passengers were helped
inside the carriage and then turned her head, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace, when the driver had asked if she was going.

  That voice in the back of her head said, “yes,” but her heart shouted, “no.”

  She’d watched the stagecoach leave without her and sat, unmoving,, wondering what to do.

  Shadows lengthened and fell, blocking the light, and she looked up at the darkened figure, his features obscured by the bright glow of flames behind him. Grace blinked and tilted her head to one side, trying to see him and when he shifted, blocking out the light from the fireplace, his features slowly came into focus. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest as she gazed up at him. “Rafe?”

  A strangled gasp escaped her throat as she leaped to her feet, Rafe’s arms already wide as he reached for her. The moment he closed them around her, she melted into him, crying against his shoulder as he hugged her to him.

  “I thought I’d lost you, Grace,” he said, his breathless words rasping against her ear. His arms tightened around her as he lifted her, her toes barely touching the ground. “I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

  She’d never been a weepy woman but in that moment, she couldn’t control the torrent. Tears came unbidden and she let them fall as she held on to him. Movement behind him caught her attention and she saw Jesse, staring at them with an odd look upon his face.

  It took long minutes to get her emotional outburst under control and when she did, she lifted her head and looked toward Jesse. He smiled at her, a hint of sadness in his eyes and she sighed, letting go of Rafe. “Oh, Jesse.” She crossed to him, taking him into her arms and the tears came again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay,” he said. He looked at her, the smile finally reaching his eyes. “I’m sorry for making you leave.” A blush stole across his cheeks and he blinked and glanced away briefly before meeting her gaze again. “We want you to come back home with us.”

  Jesse glanced at Rafe and Grace turned her head to look, too. Rafe was staring at her, the look in his eyes causing her heart to skip a beat. He smiled at her, reached into his pocket, pulling his hand back out before uncurling his fingers. A small ring lay there on his palm, the tiny jewel in its center glistening in the firelight.

  She looked up, met his gaze, and her heart skip to a stop when he said, “Marry me, Grace.”

  Tears burned her eyes again and she blinked them away, smiling at him as she nodded her head, an excited, “Yes,” echoing across the room.

  He kissed her, his callused fingers rasping against her cheek as he held her to him. “Then lets go get married.”

  Her eyes widened. “Now?”

  He nodded. “Now.”

  They were married in a small church on the outskirts of town. Jesse walked her down the isle and gave her away. The ceremony was short, there were no guests or flowers or even a white dress, but Rafe was standing there with her and she’d never been happier.

  Their vows were repeated, the ring placed on her finger, and when the preacher pronounced them husband and wife, Grace laughed. “I love you, Rafe Samuels.”

  Rafe placed his hands on either side of her face, kissed her tenderly, and whispered against her lips, “Don’t leave me, Grace.”

  Her heart broke at the fear in his voice. “Never,” she said, kissing him back. “I’ll never leave you.” She wasn’t sure he believed her but she had the rest of her life to convince him.

  They checked into a hotel, Grace spending the money she’d received from Mrs. Jenkins for her dresses to rent two rooms. When Rafe shut and locked their door, those butterflies that always started fluttering in her stomach when he was near made their appearance.

  She laid her reticule aside and started unhooking the buttons on her dress, Rafe’s gaze riveted to her hands. He leaned back against the door and watched her. Grace had never felt so wanton in her life as she stared at him. She smiled as she slipped the dress over her shoulders, the material pooling at her feet, and wasted little time removing her chemise and corset.

  When she stood naked before him, he pushed off the door and crossed the room, lifting her the moment he reached her and laid her back on the bed, spread her knees and buried his face between her legs, his tongue delving into her slick folds.

  Grace gasped, reached for his head and laid in shocked wonder as he licked, sucked and kissed her with such wicked abandon, her legs started shaking in a matter of minutes. He looked up at her, his mouth still moving against her and Grace raised her hips, trying to bring him closer.

  Her stomach clenched long minutes later, that tightening sensation causing her entire body to draw tight before bursting with a powerful surge of euphoric ecstasy that left her trembling.

  She lay panting for breath as he stood and removed his clothing before rejoining her on the bed. When he slipped inside of her, Grace wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her as he started to move. He peppered kisses across her skin, spoke soft words she had trouble understanding but knew each whispered syllable was a promise to love her always.

  They moved as one until she felt that urgency return, for her stomach to clench tight, and when they climaxed at last, Grace held him to her and made her own promises.

  When his body relaxed, she knew he finally believed her.

  Epilogue

  It took a week to sort the mess with Ben and the land, a circuit judge having to come all the way to Willow Creek to settle the dispute.

  Rafe’s claims that the handwriting on the letter was not his father’s was adamantly denied by Ben who swore it was. The fact no one else had witnessed Harland Samuels writing and handing Ben the letter, other than his own hired man, had led the circuit judge to find the agreement null. He dismissed the claims, ordered Ben to return the cattle he’d stolen and gave Morgan Avery, the town marshal, full authority in the form of an official warrant to head up the transfer himself.

  The rest of the cattle had been taken to the Avery ranch to join the others Holden and Colt had put up for the winter. Now that spring was officially in the air, the pasture was full, the herd back on their own land.

  Grace spotted Jesse sitting tall on his horse, his shouts echoing across the valley as he herded the cattle toward the grazing fields. The Avery men were there, along with Rafe and the hired hands who’d agreed to stay on for room and board until Rafe could sell his stock, all of them helping to steer the cattle in the right direction.

  The old bunkhouse out by the barn had been refurbished, the roof fixed and the stove cleaned until it shined. The other buildings on the property had been tended to as well. A new garden had been started, the seeds taking root to sprout small plants that would keep them fed and Grace sighed happily as she took it all in. Their lives were finally coming together.

  The happy squeal of children caught her attention and she turned, looking out into the front yard as Sarah and Emmaline Avery’s children played a game of tag. She smiled at them, watching them play and couldn’t wait for her own children to fill their house with laughter.

  With the long winter months behind them, she’d expected to already have news of a future family, but as of yet she had nothing to tell. It worried her a bit but Rafe assured her that their time would come. She had faith that he was right.

  He rode into the yard moments later, jumping to the ground and tying the horses reins to the post in front of the house as Jesse and the Avery men came in behind him doing the same. Rafe smiled at her as he took the steps two at a time and leaned down, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “That pitcher of lemonade ready?”

  Grace smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’ll go get it.” She went to stand but Rafe placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Stay where you are. I’ll grab it.”

  When he returned with the tray of glasses and the pitcher of lemonade she’d made earlier in the day, the men helped themselves. Grace kept a watchful eye on everyone, smiling to herself as their new friends laughed and talked while sitting on her front porch. Even Jesse and Al
exandra Avery seemed to be getting along. Well, when they weren’t pulling each other’s hair and slapping at one another. Jesse didn’t talk much about the tomboyish girl who preferred boys clothing to girls but if she had to guess, Grace would say Jesse was just a little bit sweet on the girl. She smiled while watching them, hoping her one-time bridegroom found his own happiness when the time came.

  When Rafe moved to her side and bent to one knee beside her, she looked over at him and smiled. If Jesse’s life turned out half as happy as hers did, she’d count them both blessed for Grace was happy, blissfully so. Rafe was still pig-headed and stubborn but she loved him until her chest ached from the sensation and she knew he loved her in return. As hard as life could get at times, with Rafe Samuels by her side, she could take on the world.

  The End

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review. Thank you!

  To be notified of new releases by Lily Graison, sign up for her newsletter: click here.

  Or LIKE her On Facebook

  Dear Readers,

  The Willow Creek Series started with the four Avery men who are the backbone of this small community. Take a look at their stories below and see where it all began.

  The Lawman

  (Willow Creek Book #1)

  On the run from her ex-lover…

  Jilted by a no-show husband…

  And now mistaken for a whore in the Diamond Back Saloon…

  Abigail Thornton doesn’t think things can get any worse. That is until a single slap to a man’s face starts a barroom brawl that lands her in the last place she expected to be.

  Town Marshal Morgan Avery wants nothing more than to wash away the trail-dust and sleep for a week, preferably with a soft, willing woman by his side. Instead, he gets Abigail Thornton – all one hundred pounds of her thrust at him seconds before a fist connects with his face. Breaking up the fight takes more effort than he wants to admit and when the last man falls he finds Abigail still standing and not looking the least bit contrite.