Love on the Plains

by Knight, Ciara

  James kicked the pile of wood, sending it tumbling down.

  “What you do that for, boy?” Colt’s words came out harsher than he’d meant.

  Emma turned into her big sister’s arms and cried. Anna shuffled both James and Emma onto the front porch and disappeared inside the home.

  “Now you done it. You gone and scared that poor little girl,” Mrs. McDaniel snapped. “You’re more beast than man. You’re a vile person to bring a woman out here and dump her on the farm alone.” She snagged the hand of the youngest redhead. “Don’t matter, because that business partner of yours will send her right back down the river. I already spoke with him, told him to do what’s right. Good luck finding a woman to marry you, mail-order bride or not.” She waddled in the direction she’d come with all her little ones following.

  “What do you mean he’ll send her back?” Colt called out to Mrs. McDaniel’s retreating back. She didn’t respond, but he knew something was up. Probably Andrew’s wife told him that Colt wasn’t worthy of a bride. Helen was right, but she didn’t understand he wasn’t going to keep the woman for himself. She was for Margaret’s kids. He eyed the sun high overhead and only hoped he’d make it to the river on time. It would take months before he could order another bride.

  Change of plans. The firewood could wait. So could a bath in the creek. He had a bride to bring home.

  He swung open the front door to see Anna glaring at him, while James held Emma on his lap in the corner, calming his little sister down. She scrunched into him at the sight of Colt. “Gonna go fetch your new ma. I’ll be back. Stay inside and don’t go nowhere. Best she meets you here instead of at the river.”

  Anna nodded, but her face was still pinched tight with a silent warning for him not to yell around her baby sister again. He grabbed the jug from the table and strode to the barn where he hid his drink in some hay before saddling his horse, Loyal. The hard ride across Perry Creek and along the edge of town to the river took longer than he’d anticipated. The ferry boat was already docked at the first levee. He hopped off Loyal and spotted Andrew standing near the people disembarking. After tethering Loyal, he marched through the crowd to his partner’s side. “Hear you’re gonna betray me.”

  Andrew lifted his chin. “You said yourself you’d never make a good husband.”

  “That gives you the right to turn my bride away?”

  Andrew fixed his jacket and eyed the people coming off the boat. Colt knew Andrew hated being seen with Colt in town. Andrew’s reputation could be damaged if he was seen with the socially inept and dangerous man. A man so dangerous, everyone told stories about their fear of him murdering them in their sleep. It didn’t matter that there wouldn’t be a business without Colt’s money and skills, or that the income kept Andrew living in the style he wanted. Not to mention the free furs for his wife and her friends. He would’ve never taken the man on as a business partner if it wasn’t for his ability to sell a fur coat to a racoon in summer. “Andrew Sanbourn, you can take a walk, or I can.”

  Andrew stiffened.

  “That’s right. I’ll leave you to work with the Indians and former soldiers to secure furs to trade. Not to mention the dirty work that goes along with this job.”

  In a loud tone, Andrew said, “Now, listen, Sanbourn and Hardin Fur Trading—”

  “Excuse me.” A dainty woman with hair the color of the most beautiful autumn sunset, and the beauty of what he imagined a queen would look like. “You must be Mister Hardin. I’m Miss Dinah McKinnie from Georgia.” She reached out a gloved hand to Andrew, her voice sounding like a melody the way she spoke all proper with a sweet, Southern accent.

  Colt swallowed. This woman was no spinster. Certainly not ugly, and nothing of what he’d expected based on some of the women who’d arrived for other men in town. When she smiled a light shown in her eyes the way it once had shone in Margaret’s eyes.

  Her gaze traveled to Colt and then back to Andrew. “I apologize for my attire. I’m afraid my trunk was lost somewhere on the train. I’ve been without ever since.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sure we can arrange for clothing and other necessities immediately. I’d hate for you to suffer another moment.” Andrew took her hand and kissed her knuckles, eliciting a deep growl from inside Colt, who finally managed to shake off the distraction of her beauty. Colt cleared his throat and stepped closer.

  “With my trunks lost, I have nothing for your man to carry,” the woman said, her gaze only skimming Colt. “Should we head into town? I would like to change and bathe before we marry.”

  Colt didn’t want the woman in his life. She was only there for the children. But he didn’t like her looking down on him, or the way she was gazing at his snake of a business partner with doe eyes.

  “Shall we go?” she said to Andrew in a breathy tone meant to ensnare a man.

  “That man you’re shamelessly flirting with is Andrew Sanbourn, my married business partner and father of four. I’m Colt Hardin.”

  Miss Dinah McKinnie took one look at him and swooned into the arms of his lying, cheating, manipulating gentleman of a business partner. One more thing the man had tried to steal from him.

  Chapter Two

  The lack of food and water, the sweltering morning heat, and the shock of being so very wrong got to Dinah, and she’d stumbled. The muddy ground under foot hadn’t made it easy to balance, either. She blinked. The clean, well-kempt gentleman who still held her in his arms smelled of cleanliness and opportunities, unlike the man at his side. She held tight to Mr. Andrew Sanbourn. He wasn’t built strong, but strong enough to keep her up. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid I’m weary after my travels. It’s been a long and arduous journey.”

  Mr. Sanbourn’s soft hand stroked her cheek, as if to check for fever. “Poor thing. I think it’s best if I take you to the Hagy House, so that you may rest for a while.”

  “Your wife wouldn’t approve,” the other man said harshly. Colt Hardin. The man whom she was supposed to marry, with the scruffy beard, dirty clothes, and unbearable man-stench. Not the well-dressed, handsome, and sophisticated businessman who currently held her in his arms.

  Dinah was many things, but husband thief wasn’t one of them. The shock of who it was she’d been betrothed to faded, so she shook off the haze and pushed herself from Mr. Hardin’s business partner’s arms. She straightened her skirts and smoothed her hair, then eyed the city beyond the people and muddy terrain. Wooden buildings, both white and brown, filled the grassy lands. It wasn’t the bustling of Atlanta before the war, or the stateliness of Marietta, or even the beauty of her once lush plantation, but it was alive with people and possibilities. Husband possibilities.

  Because Mr. Cole Hardin simply wouldn’t do. She’d come all this way to marry a rich businessman who could provide her with, if not luxury, then a comfortable lifestyle in which to gain pleasure. Parties, dinners, dancing…friends. And her family. A man such as Mr. Hardin surely could not find a way to bring her sisters to her. She’d come to Sioux City to live again, to breathe free. Marrying a man who stank like a barnyard was not freedom. She’d be right back where she was in Marietta—with the stench of death bringing back the memories of war.

  “Well, I should find a place to rest.” She turned to the man she’d agreed, through the mail, to marry, and said stiffly, “Mr. Hardin, I think it would be best if we took a day or two before we were married. I’d like to recover from my trip.”

  His lips, the parts she could see beyond his overgrown matted buffalo hide of a beard, curled into a snarl. This man was more barbarian than gentleman. He couldn’t be business partners with the elegant man still standing at her side with an appreciative roaming gaze.

  She watched the people make their way toward the main road into town. She needed to have time to figure out what to do next. “Since we are not wed yet, and it wouldn’t be proper for me to stay with you before the ceremony, could you please take me to the hotel?”

  “You paying?” Mr. Hardin’s
insulting gaze traveled the length of her tattered and out-of-style dress. “If not, don’t see how you’ll be staying there.”

  She whirled on him, fanning her face at the heat that rose to her cheeks. She could not allow this man—or any—to know the only dress she owned was what she wore. “Why, sir, you are no gentleman.” She dug deep for her best Southern belle and plastered it on, with tears and all, determined to make this mongrel feel the guilt he deserved. “To call attention to my appearance after all I’ve done to travel here for you. Did you not hear me before? I told you my trunk was lost, or worse, stolen, leaving me with only these rags. My dress is ruined because I’ve been forced to wear nothing but the clothes I left home in. My skirt is ripped from catching in the wagon wheel. The dullness of this once beautiful material is now faded by sun and dirt.” She wept into her hands until she’d drawn attention from passing townspeople, to make sure he had no choice but to deliver her safely to the hotel. If he wouldn’t pay, perhaps someone would take pity on her and offer to pay for a hotel room for a week or two.

  “If you’re done with this nonsense, let’s be getting home.” Colt Hardin said.

  “I am not going to go with you when you do nothing but insult me, sir. Besides it wouldn’t be proper wince we are not married, yet.” She turned to find help from the man who had offered her comfort a moment before. “You’d allow this heathen to take me away?”

  Mr. Andrew Sanbourn looked at Mr. Hardin, and then back at her. He tipped his hat. “Regretfully, yes. Good day, Miss McKinnie.” He then ambled away, leaving her with a…a cesspool of a man standing before her. Her betrothed.

  “Well, I never.” Eyeing the ferry and then the town, Dinah knew she needed to figure out a plan. She’d come all this way, and she wasn’t giving up that easily. If not for herself, then for her sisters. She had to find a way to make a home here and bring her sisters to live with her. For now, Colt Hardin and his horse was her only option. Her belly rolled with queasiness. “Do you promise that you will be a gentleman? That you will not dishonor me, sir?”

  Colt Hardin removed his hat to reveal a head full of brown hair. He mock-bowed and offered his arm, as if escorting her to a ball. “Word as a gentleman, ma’am,” he said in the worst attempt at a Southern gentleman’s drawl.

  “Somehow, I’m not sure that means anything.” Dinah eyed the passing townspeople and workers, but none seemed too interested in their exchange. Exhaustion and the thought of boarding the ferry to travel home, defeated and without hope for her sisters, didn’t appeal to her. That, and she wasn’t certain she could afford a return trip home. Certainly, if he took her into Sioux City, she’d have the opportunity to woo another man, a less burly animal. Besides, if there was one thing she could handle, it was a man. Hadn’t she manipulated the Union soldiers to feed her family? If she could handle them, she could handle some flea-infested, sorry excuse for a betrothed. “Fine.” She tried to stomp past, but the mud didn’t allow for dramatics. With each step, she had to force her feet free of the suctioning mud.

  He walked behind her, and she thought about telling him to retrieve her carpetbag she’d abandoned in hopes of pulling off the charade of only appearing poor instead of showing how desperate she truly was. Her plan hadn’t worked, and she could use the few items in her carpetbag, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit she’d left it behind. She wouldn’t give this nasty Mr. Colt Hardin the pleasure.

  They reached a tethered horse and Colt stopped, reaching out to untie the beast’s reins from the hitching post.

  She stopped and eyed the animal. “Where’s the carriage?”

  “No carriage.” Colt tugged the horse out of the mud and onto the path.

  Hands on hips, she snapped out, “You can’t expect me to ride with you on that. Take me to the hotel. I demand it.”

  Mr. Hardin stepped in front of her and with his mere presence, forced her eyes to lock on his. He was so close she could almost feel the heat emanating from his body. Without touching her, he still was imposing. “You can’t pay. Anyone can see that.”

  He took a step back. His gaze traveled the length of her, not in the way men did with their want and desire, but with…dismissal, as if she wasn’t worth his attention at all. “Go home.” Then he turned, and leading the horse, began to trudge down the muddy path.

  “What?” Dinah stood dumbfounded at the rejection. No man had ever walked away from her in her entire life. Men would lay down their coats for her to step over mud, and this man was leaving her bogged down in the mire.

  “Leave.”

  Dinah sucked in a quick breath. Barbarian or not, Cole Hardin was the only person she had any connection to in this part of the country. “Are you breaking your promise?” she called out to his retreating back. “You’re a scoundrel and a criminal.”

  “Maybe. I do know that you don’t want me,” he ground out.

  She yanked her booted foot free of the goo and moved after him. “I only stated I would not submit to a man I’m not wed to.”

  “Don’t need to force a woman.” He pulled the reins over the back of the horse and grabbed the saddle horn.

  “You would abandon me here with no money and no way home?”

  He held tight to the saddle. “Fine. Come.”

  “What about clothing and personal items I’ll need?”

  “I’ll get you clothes.” Mr. Hardin reached out and took her hand.

  “I’m not riding on that thing with you.” She snatched her hand away, placed it on her hips and angled her head to the sky, making sure he understood her meaning.

  “You have to. There’s no other way. And I’m trying to help you up.”

  “I don’t need your help. I’ve been riding for years. Sidesaddle, of course, but I’m certain I can figure out this Western contraption. And I’m sure you can walk. I will not ride that beast with you.” She went to move past him, but her foot remained suctioned in the mud. Her body continued forward, though, causing her to dive face-first into the puddle of muck and God knew what else. The brackish odor was worse than Colt Hardin, who now towered over her. Heat flushed her cheeks from embarrassment and then anger.

  When she pried her face and chest free, she sat on a hip and swiped the black dirt from her eyes and mouth. She tried not to think about the gritty, wet slime and unidentifiable flavors now invading her tongue. She held her hand up to Mr. Hardin, but he didn’t move to help her. “Certainly, you will assist me, sir.”

  “You don’t want my help. You said so yourself.” He sauntered past and she was forced to dislodge herself from the muck. She yanked her skirts up around her calves in an indecent and awkward escape. After a moment of struggle, she managed to find solid ground and dropped her skirts to her ankles. Torn, stained, and smelly. Wonderful. Now she was a true match to her betrothed.

  The lumberjack of a man easily mounted the horse. Looking down at her with a triumphant smile, he said, “Good distance. Best change your mind.”

  She shook her head and hobbled forward, but about fifty paces toward town, her ankle throbbed, and she only hoped she hadn’t done any real damage to her ankle, otherwise finding a way to not marry Mr. Hardin and find a new husband would have to wait. Every minute she spent with Mr. Hardin was a moment lost finding a real husband. A moment longer her sisters had to live in poverty.

  “Get on the horse.” Her soon-to-be ex-mail-order betrothed ordered.

  She wanted to argue the point, but her ankle protested too much. “Fine, I’ll need—”

  A hand grabbed the back of her dress and hoisted her up onto the horse in front of him, side-saddle, before she even realized her feet had left the ground. The sound of the material under her arm ripping was the final blow to her ego.

  The man was strong, stronger than most. She’d always liked the look of a man who worked hard, but like most Southern belles, she certainly preferred they bathe before visiting.

  Dinah wrinkled her nose and leaned away from him, but he wrapped an arm around her and pulled he
r against his chest. Her heart sped at the closeness. Except for a few times when a suitor had danced too close during one of her mother’s parties, she’d never been this close to a man before, especially one that smelled so…rough. She sniffed. “We really must discuss your personal hygiene.”

  He directed the horse along a path outside town where she saw the backs of buildings up close. “Don’t smell so good yourself, now.”

  Her Irish temper went to full speed, and she moved to jump from the horse before her last shred of dignity was lost forever, but he held her like an iron gate against him. She reminded herself this man was all she had in Sioux City. She needed to buy herself some time before finding another gentleman she could win over. With a huff, she settled down.

  A steeple on top of a white building on the other side of what appeared to be the heart of the town, extended above the city’s roofline. Music spilled out of another building into the streets and tickled her ears. Chatter and laughter filled the air. Such a stark contrast to the silence surrounding the South she’d grown used to after the war. Four years had passed since she’d heard such gaiety. Her heart grew light. “Is there a party going on? I believe I hear a schottische being played.”

  “No.” He loosened his arm, but sat stone-still behind her. “That’s no party. And that place isn’t for ladies like you.”

  “But it sounds divine. Full of life.” Dinah sighed when they passed the building with the lovely sounds coming from within and continued along the path, which forked directly ahead, one direction headed toward the town, the other headed to the vast plains.

  And when Colt turned the horse onto the path away from town, she whipped her head to face him. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Home.” He didn’t look at her, only kept his attention ahead on the path toward God knew where.

  “No, you live in town,” she argued. “You stated in your advertisement that you’re a businessman, that you have a lucrative business. I’d assumed that meant you lived near your company, in the center of all the activity.”