Lost Fortune (The Unbridled Series Book 1)

by Sandra E Sinclair

  “You’re not angry? You’re still prepared to marry me…” Right then, Rilla wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him she loved him, but then he spoke and the moment was lost.

  “I said I would marry you, and I shall. I’m a man of my word. Besides, you have no need for alarm. It will be in name only.”

  Her heart sank. No one stirred her the way he did, and no one else ever would. She belonged to him. He was everything she wanted and needed in her life. He was strong, stable, and helped her to heal.

  She’d been blaming her parents for all the things that had happened to her over the last twelve months. But now, she was in a different place in her feelings. Rilla realized everything they did for her was done with, and out of love.

  Her brother Wyatt was a twisted, sick, evil man, but she couldn’t remain angry at him. She'd come to understand that his life couldn't have been any easier than her own, and he’d suffered a lot longer. She hoped one day they could sit down together as brother and sister, like her soon-to-be-husband did with his.

  It was heart-warming to see and feel a part of something greater. Cal was not the man he portrayed himself to be. He was wealthy, with more money than she could imagine. None of that meant anything to her. She would have him, and love him, even if he’d only possessed the clothes he wore. He’d proven himself to be kind and thoughtful, a caring man and she would do anything to make sure theirs was a fruitful, prosperous, and loving marriage.

  His parents, brothers, and nephew had welcomed her into the family. She was quite taken by all of them, even if she was a little overwhelmed by the fact all the brothers looked so much alike, as did their father. He was getting on in age, but still as handsome as his sons. It was endearing to see Cal’s mother, such a petite woman, had the capacity to produce so many strong, burly men, all towering over her.

  On the day of the wedding, Cal’s mother, along with a few servants, helped to get the blushing brides ready. Rilla and Jewel held hands as they looked at themselves in the mirror. They were both so very happy. Life couldn’t get any better than this. It was Jewel’s idea for a double wedding, however they decided together to ask Mr. Pigeuron to give them away, as neither of them had any parents.

  Jewel looked wonderful in her wedding gown. Her clothes were as elaborate and flamboyant as Thomas’s. They looked like gilded lovebirds. Rilla and Cal, however, were less eye-catching in terms of their garments, preferring more sober, traditional colors. But they were a beautiful couple, and many of the guests had commented on how wonderful they looked together.

  Mr. Pigeuron looked as proud as a peacock as he walked down the aisle with the arms of two very beautiful women tucked neatly under his own. After handing both women to their prospective grooms, he took his seat.

  Cal’s hand felt safe and comforting. Rilla made the decision. As soon as they were pronounced man and wife, she would tell her husband she was desperately in love with him.

  The preacher announced Cal could now kiss his bride, sealing their union. Cal lips were soft and warm, and sent shivers down her spine. Her legs weakened and she leaned into him. As he supported her weight, she whispered in his ear.

  Cal lifted her up, twirling her into the air, while letting out a warm, deep belly laugh which surprised all in attendance.

  Every one of his brothers wanted to know what Rilla had said to him to make him laugh out loud that way. Cal refused to tell his brothers what she’d said, and they had teased him mercilessly. But he took it all in good spirits and danced with his lovely wife around the room, hoping his brothers would find a woman that could make them as happy as Rilla made him.

  He was a lucky man, and he knew it. He’d hoped to find a woman that would make him as happy as his mother made his father, and she most certainly had done that. Cal knew, as much as he knew his own name, Rilla would continue now and forever making him happy.

  Their love was destined from the day he saw her on the train. He could think of nothing, and no one else, since.

  Before they were due to depart, Cal thought back to what his wife had said, that had made this day the best day of his life. When she’d leaned in to whisper in his ear, she told him she didn’t want a marriage of convenience, she was choosing him.

  He was enough.

  This pleased him, for Calvin Dalton wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I hope that you enjoyed “Lost Fortune”, the first book in the Unbridled Series. If you could take a moment to head back to where you bought it and leave a review, it would be much appreciated.

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  Excerpt From Book 2

  “Storm, where in tarnation are you? What you doing, boy? Get your bony behind over here. Or I’m coming over there to drag your worthless, lazy hide out of bed, and stomp all over your useless head.”

  Storm’s eyes flashed open at her father’s words. Darn, she’d overslept. It felt as though she’d only closed her eyes for a minute. His cursing didn’t worry her; she knew he didn’t mean anything by it. He only cussed when he was overwrought. Something must be wrong.

  “Coming, Pa,” she yelled back. She’d better go see what he wanted and then go meet her sister Emma at their place down by the river. She was already late.

  Storm leaped out of bed. She looked down at her attire. She was dressed only in female pantaloons, a present from her sister. She liked to sleep in them, loving the feel of the fabric against her skin and the fact the split was in the right place.

  Her passion was to put on female clothing in the privacy of her bedroom, a small two room building where she used to live with her mother. It was attached to the back of the big house where her father and sister resided.

  To feel and act like a real woman was the only thing Storm yearned for. Her dresses and undergarments, all gifts from her sister, were the only feminine items she possessed. She had to keep them hidden for fear her father would find them. If her father knew she wasn’t the son he wanted, she’d be given away or sold to the fur traders that passed through, as were her sisters before her.

  She’d better be quick. She couldn’t afford her father to come over while she was still in a state of undress and discover her secret. Storm reached for her breastplate and bandages. She would soon have her chest flattened and secured in place.

  In no time, she was out of her female pantaloons and wearing men’s undergarments, buckskin leather pants, and a baggy men’s shirt. Sitting on the bed, she pulled on buckskin boots, threw on her tassel-sleeved leather jacket, and tied a woven leather belt around her, low on the waist. It was enough to secure the front of the jacket, but not enough to outline her figure.

  As she left her room to see what her father wanted, she paused while braiding her hair, to admire the setting sun. The sky was almost purple with an orange, yellow, and red hue. Storm loved the smell of the outdoors. There was something earthy about it.

  She wrapped her long plait loosely around her neck and out of the way. Storm wished she could tell her pa, she was really a girl, but she’d promised her mother on her deathbed, she would only reveal her true nature to her father when she found a man she wanted to marry.

  She’d always known she was different, but she didn’t know how different. At first, she just thought the difference was skin deep. Realization came when she was about seven, and a group of similar aged boys who also lived on or near the ranch decided to go swimming in the river near her home. She was reluctant to remove her clothes when she saw, without clothes, the other boys looked different from her. Storm had run home crying, thinking she was broken.

  She’d never seen her mother so afraid and angry when she asked her why she was broken. Her mother told her never to go to the river with the boys again. She wasn’t broken, she was fine, but she wasn’t a
boy. She was actually a girl, like Emma, and her pa was never to find out. If he did, she’d be sent away. Storm wasn’t to tell him; she wasn’t to tell anyone. No one could ever know their secret.

  Things began to make sense to her—why her mother always accompanied her to the bathroom. She was never bathed outdoors, like the other children, but away inside, always in private. Later, when she was older, her mother told her the story of what happened to her sisters. Storm was sufficiently scared enough into keeping her identity hidden.

  Storm’s mother had been mixed-blooded too. Before her father became a rancher, he was a fur trader. Her grandfather sold her mother to him. Her mother had helped her father make enough money to buy and settle on the ranch.

  Although he still traded in furs, he was more focused on cattle because that’s where the money was. Over the years, she bore him three daughters. When the first two came of age, her father had sold them on to other fur traders. Storm thought her father cruel. Her mother told her she’d been lucky to have been given to a man like her father, he was good to her. Other women in her position weren’t so fortunate.

  The richer and more powerful her father became, the more he yearned for a son. After thirty years together, it seemed her mother was only able to produce girls, so her father courted the youngest sister of a friend of his and married her.

  Her father’s new wife and her mother were pregnant at the same time. Fearing Storm would be the last child she’d ever have, and believing his other wife would give him the son he desired so badly, her mother told her father, Storm was a boy. Thinking if his Christian wife gave him a boy too, he would allow her to finally raise a child she could keep.

  Two weeks later, Emma was born. Storm’s mother had feared for her life when her father said she would have to give Storm up for Emma’s mother to raise as her own, then sighed in relief when the other woman refused. Her father was in a position now that to declare a mixed-blood son as his successor would reduce his social status.

  Her father was stuck between a rock and a hard place, because now he had the son he wanted but he couldn’t claim him, so Storm was left in her mother’s care.

  Storm let herself in through the back door of the big house. She heard voices coming from her father’s study and made her way there. She opened the door and went inside.

  What are US Marshals doing here?

  Her father looked aged and tired.

  “Hello,” Storm said, as she looked at the faces in the room.

  “Storm, this is Cole and Colt Dalton. They're here because Emma’s been taken.”

  “Taken?”

  “She been abducted, boy, keep up.” Her father sighed. “The marshals here are going to need your tracking skills to get her back.” Her father turned to the marshals. “Take Storm with you. He don’t look like much, but he’s the best tracker in these parts. If anyone can find Emma, he can.”

  Storm looked at her father in disbelief. Her mouth went dry and an ashy tongue sought to moisten her lips. The blood drained from her face and the vein in her neck spasmed, as an icy sensation washed over her. This was her fault. Had she not fallen asleep and met her sister like she was supposed to, none of this would have happened.

  Storm knew this was her father's worst nightmare as the same thing had happened to Emma’s mother when Emma was about a year old. The outcome had been tragic. Her eyes darted from one face in the room to another, her gaze lingered from one brother to the next. Colt’s face, for whatever reason, seemed to stand out more. Cole’s features appeared to fog over in her mind.

  “Do you know the whereabouts of where she was taken?” Storm asked her father.

  “Down by the river.”

  “How long?”

  “Maybe around noon.”

  “Noon? Why didn’t someone say something sooner?”

  “It was one of the children, who shouldn’t have been down by the river who saw it happen. They didn’t say anything until now for fear of being in trouble. I’ve told the marshals here, from the description, it has to be Red Ken Walker and if it’s him, he’s taken her to the mountains.”

  “Okay, let’s go”

  “Don’t you want to wait until morning when it’s light out?” Cole asked.

  Storm regarded Cole for a moment. Why couldn’t she see his face clearly? “No, I don’t want them to have a day’s start on us. I’ll grab some supplies, and meet you out front. We leave now.” Storm didn’t want to waste time waiting for first light. If anything happened to Emma, she would never forgive herself. Besides, she had the eyes of a hawk.

  About the Author

  Sandra E. Sinclair is a dreamer and hopeless romantic. Sandra grew up in London, England where the skies are often gray and the streets could be cleaner. However, she doesn't let this dampen her spirits. She loves her hometown and considers herself a true-blue Londoner, who is happy to find her sunshine overseas, and she does as often as she can. It’s through traveling abroad that she finds her inspiration for her stories.

  Her stories are designed to elicit every emotion in her readers. You will laugh, cry, be shocked, and titillated. The one thing you won't be, is bored.

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  Copyright © 2016 by Sandra E. Sinclair

  Cover Art by Mia Hartley

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  All Rights Reserved: No part of this publication maybe copied, reproduced in any format, modified, redistributed, or sold without prior consent of the author.

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  This book is a work of fiction, all the names, characters, places and incidents presented are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.