by Merry Farmer
Eden
The Dangerous Bride
Merry Farmer
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Copyright ©2016 by Merry Farmer
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your digital retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)
ASIN: B01ADW2HBO
Paperback:
ISBN-13: 978-1523332243
ISBN-10: 1523332247
Click here for a complete list of works by Merry Farmer
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Created with Vellum
A year ago, I waved goodbye to Corporate America
and joined the ranks of the full-time authors.
It was kinda like accepting an offer to be a mail-order bride.
Good thing it worked out!
Chapter 1
Haskell, Wyoming – 1875
Like most saloon fights, it started with alcohol and a bad attitude. The Paradise Ranch boys would argue later that they were just there to enjoy a pleasant evening of cards in the chaste company of the girls from Bonnie’s place across the way. They had no idea that Rex Bonneville’s rough and tumble employees would be there too, celebrating the deal Bonneville had just signed giving them an exclusive contract with the beef distributor who owned the stockyard closest to Haskell. Sure, the Paradise Ranch boys were a bit put out that this deal meant they would have to drive their cattle a hundred miles to the stockyard in Culpepper until Howard Haskell could sort things out, but honestly, they were just there to play cards and flirt with the ladies. Honestly.
And while, yes, Luke Chance’s declaration that “Only a lily-livered, slack-jawed, bone-headed coward would hide behind a piece of paper in the face of a little competition” was said as a means of constructive criticism, it caused one of Bonneville’s thugs—that is, his employees—Stavros “The Greek” Papadopoulos, to throw a hard-knuckled punch right at Luke’s face. The resounding crack of fist hitting bone rang throughout the saloon. Moments later, chairs clattered to the floor and glass shattered as bottles were chucked aside, tables overturned, and the boys went at each other.
Luke had never been one to back down from a little mayhem—not when he was a boy picking pockets to help his parents put food on the table for him and his three siblings, not when his parents died and he had to protect Libby, Freddy, and Muriel after they were sent to the orphanage, and not when they made the journey west on the Oregon Trail ten years ago. He leapt over splintered chairs to thump Stavros, giving as good as he got. He wrenched a leg free from a crushed table and proceeded to use it as a bat to defend his mates as the brawl spread to the dais Bonnie’s girls used to kick up their skirts to raucous music, like the ladies did in France. And he rushed to protect those girls when half of Bonneville’s toughs pulled out pistols that should have been confiscated before they entered the saloon.
After that, it was over before anyone could holler boo—or get shot, thankfully. Luke was left with a shiner that stung like the dickens as sweet Pearl Pettigrew dabbed a cool, wet cloth on it, and a vicious ache in his side where a chair had been smashed into him. The saloon had been torn to shreds in a matter of minutes, and both Bonneville’s crew and the boys of Paradise Ranch learned what real fear was when the barkeep, Sam Standish, the saloon’s owner, Charlie Garrett, and Haskell’s sheriff, Trey Knighton, took charge of the scene with a vengeance.
That was how Luke—and a dozen other men—ended up spending the night in Haskell’s cramped jail. It was why Howard Haskell was in a foul mood when he came to bail out half his ranch hands. It was also why Luke was seen leaving Bonnie’s place at nine in the morning, his clothes in disarray, his lips red, and his left eye swollen shut. But it wasn’t what it looked like.
“Franklin!” Luke winced as he hopped off the stoop in front of Bonnie’s and flagged down his supervisor on the ranch. “Hey, Franklin, hold up a second.”
A few steps ahead, Franklin Haskell, with his pretty, new wife, Corva, on his arm, stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. He jolted in shock at the sight of Luke rushing toward him. Luke couldn’t fight the grimace that his fresh injuries brought to his face. He’d seen worse after being bucked by a horse or kicked by an irate heifer, but not all at once. He wiped his grimy forehead with the back of his hand, wishing the jail had a bucket of water at least for a bath, and came to a stop in front of Franklin and Corva.
“Morning, ma’am.” He nodded to Corva—whose mouth hung open as she took in the sight of him and the building he’d just come out of—then turned to Franklin. “So, boss, some of the boys and I were talking last night about how we have to drive the herd all the way to the stockyard in Culpepper next month because of Bonneville’s sneaky deal.”
Franklin’s shock stiffened to a frown. He stood straighter, hugging his wife’s arm, as if to protect her from a madman. “Yes. It’s unfortunate, but true.”
Luke nodded, widening his stance and planting his hands on his hips. He gave Franklin his most winning smile and said, “Well, boss, I’d like a chance to lead that drive.”
Silence followed. Franklin stared at him, sweeping him with a look that said more than any words could, and none of it good. He cleared his throat. “Have you seen a doctor about your eye?”
Luke winced, which didn’t help the pain radiating from the eye in question. “Sam made sure Doc Milligan tended to all the boys in lock-up last…” He let his words fade to nothing, then cleared his throat. “I should probably explain what happened last night.” Bad as it was, and as hard as it would be to explain, a wily grin tickled Luke’s lips.
Franklin exchanged a glance with his wife, then both of them turned to Luke with varying degrees of reproof.
“I know what happened last night,” Franklin said. “Dad told me all about it before he rode out here to pay your bail. Travis Montrose is back at the ranch, trying to do your work and his while he waits for you lot to get home.”
“I wouldn’t want to face him if he’s still in the mood he was first thing this morning,” Corva added.
Luke ran a hand over his sore jaw, dreading what he couldn’t avoid. At least he would face it with Cody and Mason and a few other
s. Right now, he had other things to worry about.
“All right. Admittedly, none of this looks good. But just because of one saloon fight—in which we were all defending the honor of Paradise Ranch and your family, I should add—it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be thinking about business and the future.” He shifted his weight, his pulse ratchetting up as he got ready to frame his argument. “I’ve been working on the ranch for almost ten years now. I know cattle and wrangling better than I know anything else. If we have to drive the herd a hundred miles to get them to the stockyard, then so be it. But I want to be the one who leads that drive. I know I can do it.”
His bid for a leadership role was met by a hard look from Franklin. Prickles of uncertainty raced down Luke’s back. Dammit, he knew that he was capable of leading a cattle drive. He was capable of a lot more responsibility than he had on the ranch. If only there was a way to prove he was responsible, that he was a leader.
“Yoo-hoo, Luke!”
Pearl’s sugary call from an upper window in Bonnie’s place sent a zip of dread down Luke’s spine. Nothing shot a speech like the one he’d just made in the foot faster than a soiled dove waving from an upstairs window of a cathouse. Trying not to wince, Luke twisted to look up and wave back to her.
Pearl stood with her elbows resting on the window frame, a position which pushed her ample bosom dangerously close to spilling right out of the top of her corset. She already had lip-rouge on, and her curly hair hung loose in a tempting mass around her porcelain shoulders. Not exactly the image you wanted your boss to see.
“Della says I just missed you,” Pearl said, a bright smile on her face. “She said you stopped by to make sure us girls were all right after the kerfuffle last night.”
“Yep,” Luke said, the grimace in his voice, if not on his face.
“He’s such a nice man,” Pearl called down to Franklin and Corva. “So kind and considerate of us girls. And so handsome too. Why, half the time we’ve got a mind to entertain him free of charge, but he’s never taken any of us up on the offer.”
Luke burst into an awkward laugh. “Gee, thanks, Pearl.” He snuck a peek at Franklin and Corva. Corva was every bit as scandalized as Luke had worried she’d be, but Franklin’s expression had gone as blank as stone, which was worse. “I don’t actually patronize Bonnie’s girls,” Luke tried to make light of things. “Never even considered it,” he added in a mutter, blushing at the little fib.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay too,” Pearl continued from above. “I feel more sorry for all you boys. It was such a shame you all got arrested. But Mr. Garrett was saying that he’d find a way to put a stop to all your excess energy if he had to drag every woman at Hurst Home out here to Haskell personally, whatever that means.”
Twin pricks of horror and hope ricocheted through Luke’s chest. His adopted mother, Josephine Evans, was one of the ladies who had been involved in bringing Corva Haskell out to Wyoming as a mail-order bride for Franklin. She and Franklin’s aunt, Virginia Piedmont, and Charlie Garrett had taken on the task of helping the unfortunate women who found themselves as Hurst Home—a safe haven in Nashville, Tennessee for women who had been abused or otherwise found themselves in danger—to find husbands here in Haskell. Ever since Franklin had started smiling again and telling everyone how happy he was with Corva and how in love, Josephine had been pestering Luke to let her find a bride for him too.
Above them, Pearl uttered a surprised squeak, then ducked her head into her room. A second later, she reemerged to say, “I gotta go do my chores now. Miss Bonnie says a clean house is a safe house. And Doc Milligan is coming later for our monthly check-ups. Maybe you could come by after?” She gave him her sweetest smile and batted her eyelashes at him.
Luke flushed hot and cold. He cleared his throat and checked to see what Franklin and Corva thought. Not much of him, if their expressions were any indication. “We’ll see,” he called up to Pearl.
She blew him a kiss, then ducked back into her room. Luke rubbed the back of his neck, and shifted to flash a sheepish grin Franklin’s way. “Bonnie’s girls can be a little overfriendly.” He took a step closer to Franklin and Corva and squared his shoulders. “Bonnie’s girls aside, I know I can lead that cattle drive. I know I’m capable of far more than I’ve been doing on the ranch.”
“You’re a hard worker,” Franklin admitted, his eyes narrowed in consideration.
“Yes, sir, I am.” Luke nodded. “Let me prove that to you.”
Franklin let out a breath and shook his head. “Saloon fights? Bonnie’s girls? Not to mention the hoopla you and Cody Montrose caused earlier in the summer when you bought that jug of Silas Purdue’s moonshine.”
Luke burst into a chuckle before he could stop himself. That had been a night and a half—something he and Cody would be talking about for years to come. But right now, it wasn’t what he wanted his boss thinking about.
“I swear, I’m ready to turn over a new leaf, to leave my misspent youth behind me,” he insisted. “I’m a God-fearing man, and I’m getting too old for those antics anyhow. God’s been calling me toward more. I want something real—real responsibility and a future.”
“Do you?”
Luke didn’t like the doubting arch of Franklin’s brow. “Yes, sir, I do, and I can prove it to you.”
“How?” Corva asked.
Luke crossed his arms, looking as serious as he knew how. “By getting married. By letting Josephine do what she’s been wanting to do for months now—send away for a bride for me, like Mrs. Piedmont did for you.”
Franklin and Corva exchanged glances. Corva bit her lip, and Franklin gave her the slightest shrug. They turned back to Luke.
“Do you think you’re ready for a wife?” Corva asked.
Luke instantly thought of Bonnie’s place behind him. He thought of Pearl’s big, round “pearls,” about her rouged lips. He thought about the new houses Howard Haskell had started to construct between Paradise Ranch and town “for married couples.” Most of all, he thought about the promotion he was desperate to prove he was ready for.
“Yes, ma’am, I am.” He nodded, more sure than he’d ever been of anything.
Corva hummed and checked with Franklin once more. He tilted his head to the side, as if they were having a silent conversation.
“We’ll see,” Franklin said at last. “If you do marry, and if it agrees with you and grounds you, I might just have more responsibility I can give you.”
Certain he was up to the challenge, Luke grinned from ear to ear. He reached out to shake Franklin’s hand. “You won’t regret it, boss, not for a minute. I’m going to go over to Josephine and Pete’s place right now and ask her to send for someone tomorrow. No, tomorrow’s not soon enough. Today.”
He said a quick goodbye to Franklin and Corva, then rushed off down Main Street and around the corner to where Josephine and Pete lived with his two youngest siblings, Freddy and Muriel.
“What happened to you?” Muriel flinched when he burst through the kitchen door.
“Saloon fight. Is Ma home?” he rushed on, without further explanation.
Muriel gaped and sputtered, but Luke was already at the door leading to the hall and on to the front parlor when she called, “She and Mrs. Piedmont are having morning tea in the front room.”
Luke marched down the hall and into the parlor, where, sure enough, Josephine and Virginia leaned toward each other over a fancy tea set, like two gossiping schoolgirls.
“Ma, I want you to find me a wife,” Luke announced, planting his hands on his hips and smiling with all the confidence of a conquering hero.
Josephine and Virginia snapped straight, brows shooting to their hairlines, and turned to gape at him.
A moment later, their expressions transformed into sly smiles of triumph that were anything but surprised. The grin slipped from Luke’s face, and dread pooled in his gut. Maybe he’d been a bit hasty in this decision.
“I knew you’d come around so
oner or later,” Josephine said. She stood and swept across the room to Luke, Virginia right behind her. “I’ve been hoping, praying, and more importantly, planning, for this day for months.”
“Yes,” Virginia added as the two of them pushed him toward a flowery sofa against one wall and nudged him to sit. “Mrs. Breashears has sent us profiles of all of the young women at Hurst Home, and we’ve been pouring over them since then, working out exactly which girl would be right for you.”
“You…have?” This might have been a good time for him to run after all. Only the promise of promotion and a better life made him stay.
“Of course, my boy,” Josephine said. “I love you dearly, and I want nothing but the greatest joy for you. And as we all know, the greatest joy comes from a happy and successful marriage to a woman who suits your temperament in every—good heavens, Luke, what happened to your face?”
Josephine’s expression hardened to something midway between alarm and anger. She reached out and touched her fingertips to his swollen, purple eye.
“You’re just noticing my shiner now?” Luke flinched away from her.
“You finally asked me to find you a bride. What else was I supposed to think about?” Josephine’s tone turned scolding.
“Land sakes, Luke. You were in that stupid saloon fight last night, weren’t you?” Virginia sighed crossed her arms. “Almost all of Howard’s ranch hands and a few of mine were involved. Picked a fight with Bonneville’s men, or so I hear.”
“We did not pick that fight,” Luke growled. “They started it with that lousy, crooked deal Bonneville worked out with Dashiell’s Stockyard.”
“And you decided to take it to the next level, I suppose?” Josephine pursed her lips.
“We couldn’t just let them gloat like they were.” It wasn’t much of an excuse, and both women hummed and clucked over it.