In their short time together, they’d experienced more danger and thrill than Gemma had in her whole life. And more love as well.
She could not wait for the rest of their story to unfold.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” They were the first words Gemma heard clearly, ones that shook her from her trance. She barely had time to process what was coming to an end before the next part began. Someone took the bouquet from her hand and Mitchell lifted it instead. A cool band slipped over her finger, the diamond in it sparkling in the late afternoon light.
And then, so suddenly, Mitchell’s lips were on hers. His mouth was a perfect fit, enclosing over hers in a kiss that was made for that very moment. Gemma sank into the kiss, letting everything go—her fear, her worries, her past. There was only her, Mitchell, and God’s great plan for the both of them.
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Preview of next book…
Her Wild Journey
Preview: Chapter 1
Cadence stared into the darkness behind her lids, feeling as if the gaze of the whole tiny, western town was on her. It wasn’t, of course.
Opening her eyes, she saw that she was still alone, standing at the base of the hotel in Shallow Springs, Wyoming Territory. The stagecoach driver had left. The other travelers had left. It was just her once more.
Taking a long breath, she gathered all her strength and tugged at her one bag. It bumped up the steps, making a satisfying noise.
“Let me help you there.”
The voice made her jerk. She turned to see a broad-shouldered man standing next to the steps, hat brim covering the top half of his face.
“There we go.” Without asking, he took Cadence’s bag, lifted it easily, and deposited it on the hotel’s porch.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
He nodded, the glimmer of a smile on his own lips. “You just got into town?”
“Yes, sir. From Baltimore.”
He nodded once more and she took the time to quickly size him up. With a firm jaw, hazel eyes, and a strong body, he was very handsome, indeed. Not that Cadence had traveled all the way to Wyoming to appreciate the men there.
The man didn’t say anything, but continued to stand around. Cadence made her way up the steps. As she did so, she felt his eyes on her right leg, taking note of the situation there.
Everyone noticed the limp. It was the first thing they judged her on, assuming she was weak, ill, or—for some reason—generally not worth their time. She was used to it.
But that did not mean the unwanted attention still did not hurt. Especially when it was from a man who might have given her the opposite kind of attention were she fully able to walk properly.
“You traveled all by yourself from Baltimore?” he asked. “Is this your final destination?”
Cadence turned to look at him. Even with her on the porch and him still on the ground, she barely cleared his height by a few inches. Goodness, he was… nice looking.
But aggravating as well.
“I did just fine on my own,” she curtly told him.
His lips drew tight. “I just meant it’s dangerous out there. Especially when...”
She allowed him to trail off, refusing to acknowledge what he did not want to say. She may have been disabled, but that did not mean she was not capable. How many times did she have to have these interactions with people?
“Have a good day.” Taking her bag, she turned for the hotel’s door, her face burning.
It had been six years since the doctor told her she would likely always walk with a limp. It never became easier, not when each step reminded her of that day her whole world shattered.
The man did not follow her and she was grateful for that. This day was about new beginnings. Of course, the irony of her new home being less than thirty miles away from the very spot where she had sustained her leg injury was not lost on her. But she was choosing not to see that as a bad omen. Instead, this move was still her opportunity to begin afresh, a reminder that even pain had the chance to be turned into hope.
The hotel was clean and new-looking, with a staircase leading up from the front hall and a restaurant off to the right. Cadence slowly entered the dining area, looking around it all apprehensively.
A man sat at a table in the middle of the room, hat clutched in his hands. Harold Dunst. It had to be him, for there was no one else in the space.
“Miss Hurley?”
Cadence smiled. He had a nice voice—deep and gentle. Hearing that made his gray hairs and age—fifty—not matter so much.
He hurried forward, taking her bag. “How was your trip?”
“Bumpy.”
They both laughed and he nervously twisted his hand in his hand. “Come have a seat. Are you hungry?”
“Most likely. But I must admit, I think I am probably too nervous to eat so much as one bite.”
“I understand that.” Mr. Dunst chuckled.
They took seats at the table he had been at. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on the floor. Behind him, through the window, a wagon rolled down the street. Cadence saw no sign of the man who had sought to lecture her.
“Is your farm far from here?” she asked, turning back to Mr. Dunst. Never mind the man she had talked to outside. Her future was right in front of her. She had come to find happiness and opportunity—and she was determined to do just that!
He licked his lips. “It’s, uh, just a few miles north. It’s a real nice ride.”
“Lovely. I cannot wait to see it.”
“It’s nice.” His smile was weak, flickering like a dying candle.
Something was wrong. Cadence’s chest squeezed tight.
He is disappointed in me after all.
Of course. How foolish of her. She should have been prepared for this. When she posted her ad in the mail-order bride paper months before, she had been very upfront about her condition, writing that she had a moderate limp. Though it prohibited some actions, she wrote, it generally meant it only took her a bit longer to complete regular housework. She was still strong—or as strong as she could be. She had experience working as a maid and in the streets, selling flowers. What strength Cadence Hurley did have, she knew how to cull.
But reading about a deformity and seeing it in action were two very different things. She understood how a prospective husband could be disappointed.
Her face growing warm, Cadence worked to keep her voice calm. “Mr. Dunst, I understand it must be a bit shocking to see my… condition… in person, but I assure you I am still strong. I am a hard worker and I have no problem completing the everyday tasks needed from a farmer’s wife.”
His eyes grew round. “No, that’s not it! I don’t mind your limp at all. Don’t think that now.”
It had to be a lie, but Cadence kept quiet. She wasn’t going to beg for his acceptance.
For his marriage, yes, perhaps. But she would check herself until it came time for that.
Mr. Dunst shifted in his seat. “It’s something else, Miss Hurley, and it’s right hard to say. It’s… the farm hasn’t been doing so well this year. You see, a lot of things are changing around here.”
Cadence froze, listening intently. Time seemed to be slowing down, each of Mr. Hurley’s words more lethargic than the last. There was a somber tone to his voice. Wherever this was headed, it was not to a pleas
ant place.
“The corn didn’t do well last year. Or this one. And the animals...” He sighed heavily. “That’s a whole ‘nother matter. All the grass is overgrazed and there just isn’t as much available land as there used to be.”
Cadence painfully swallowed. “Is the farm… all right?”
He wouldn’t look at her, his sad eyes on the wall instead. “I’m gon’ have to declare bankruptcy.”
Bankruptcy. The word was a stabbing icicle in her heart.
“I’m real sorry, Miss Hurley, but I can’t marry you after all. I got nothing to give a wife. And I wish I’d known about this sooner, but I didn’t realize how bad it was till just a couple weeks ago. By then, it was too late to write you, to stop you from coming here. I hope you understand. I just… I figured I would find a way to make everything come together, even with the bad crops and all. But I can’t. It’s time I plumb gave up.”
Now, Cadence was the one who could not make eye contact. She stared at the ground, her eyes swimming with hot tears, and nodded. How foolish she had been to think that her luck could so suddenly turn around.
“I’ll pay for your tickets back to Baltimore, of course. The stagecoach and the train.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Blinking back the tears, she looked up.
“And you can stay at my farm till the next stagecoach out of town.”
His farm… the place that she thought would be her new home. She had never laid eyes on it. Now, she wanted to ensure that she never would.
“The hotel is fine,” she quietly replied. “I imagine they have room here. And do not worry about paying for a room, Mr. Dunst. I will take care of that myself.”
He nodded, his shoulders slumped. The relentless hat twisting had abated and he now looked like a man who didn’t have a lick of fight left in him. Cadence knew how that felt.
“Again, I’m sorry,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything while you’re here.”
He stood, the conversation over. In a few more seconds, she would be on her own once more. It wasn’t fair. She needed help and guidance. But she wasn’t a beggar.
“Have a good day, Mr. Dunst.”
“You, too, Miss Hurley.”
He left, his footsteps echoing in the large dining room.
Cadence stayed where she was, her body feeling ten times heavier than usual. At some point, she would have to get up and inquire about a room, but at that moment, she could not move a finger.
The newest chapter of her life had ended just as soon as it had begun. It was back to Baltimore for her. But back to what? She could not stay with her one living relative, for she had not seen her cousin in years. It was too late to repair the damage that had been done between them. Besides, what Cadence wanted in that situation did not matter.
No, it would be back to where she was before. Life as a maid. Or life in a factory.
Or, if she could not procure work right away, back to the streets.
A shiver ran through Cadence. No. Things had to be different. She would make them different.
Or she would go to her grave trying.
Preview: Chapter 2
Beau rode west. Stetson, the palomino he always took into town, trotted with a pep in his step. Mid-October was just as fine as it usually was. All the animals were extra frisky, showing signs of what Beau always called “fall fever.”
As they came on the last mile before Winding Path Ranch, Beau thought back to the odd interaction he’d just had in town. The woman he’d spoken to—frail, with thick blonde hair and sharp eyes—had sparked his interest.
But only because they didn’t get a lot of strangers in Shallow Springs. Even with the stagecoach coming in on the regular, it was often people who already lived in the area riding in.
He’d said something wrong to the young woman, put his foot in his mouth. He tended to do that around women.
He’d done his best, only wanting to help the girl with her bag. Was expressing a bit of concern for her safety such a crime?
It didn’t matter. Beau didn’t have much to do with anyone that he didn’t work with daily. If the young woman stayed in town, he’d see her around from time to time, but they certainly wouldn’t have to talk. He’d never have to think of her again.
Problem was, he couldn’t get her out of his head.
That same attitude that had gotten under his skin had also piqued his interest. Who was the strange, fair-haired woman with a limp? And what was she doing in his small town?
Winding Path Ranch’s barnyard was the same as it always was, with the addition of a strange horse. Sliding off Stetson, Beau walked cautiously toward the corner of the stable. Once upon a time, a strange horse wouldn’t have been a concern. But since the bandit problems earlier in the year, everyone was more cautious than usual. It never hurt to be on guard.
“He thinks he owns everything under the sky,” a man’s voice was saying.
Beau rounded the stable’s outer wall and found Will Cameron, a ranching neighbor, who had taken over the land vacated by their old neighbor (and no-good criminal), Fred Greene. He was talking to Mitch, Winding Path Ranch’s young owner.
Mitch rubbed his jaw and nodded. “Well, we have each other. I suggest we make a pact right now not to ruin that relationship.” He looked up, spotting Beau. “Was there any mail?”
“Nothing,” Beau answered, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “Gemma is going to flail me for it, I figure. She’s waiting for some dress catalog or something. Will.” He nodded. “How you doing?”
The rancher murmured his own greeting in return.
“Everything all right?” Beau asked. Cameron was a good man, but the air around the stable was tense.
“Just talking about the news,” Mitch explained. “Some of the ranchers are putting up barbed wire. You hear about that?”
Beau scoffed. “Yeah, I did. That’s only gonna cause fighting.”
Will sighed. “I don’t see what all this fighting over green space is good for. The land was shared well enough before, wasn’t it?”
“’Course it was,” Mitch answered.
Beau didn’t say anything. The problem was the number of ranchers and farmers who’d come to the area in the last year. Men with aspirations of living off the land were flowing in from back east, taking up space and resources. Most of them came on their own, unmarried and unshackled, ready to fight tooth and nail for what they wanted. Since Will was one of those very men, Beau figured it would be best if he didn’t point this out.
Thinking about it all, though, made his insides curl a bit. Just a year ago, Wyoming had still been so wild. Now, it was turning into a cultivated park.
“You all have a good night. I’d best get home.” Will waved at them before departing.
“Are you gonna tell Gemma the news, or you gonna make me do it?” Mitch grinned.
“She should go easy on you. She’s your wife, so I figure she likes you better.”
“Ha,” Mitch barked. “You don’t know much about marriage, do you?”
For a brief instant, nausea rose in Beau. He pushed it down, clamping on a lid to keep it from rising, like he always did. He was good at that.
“No,” he agreed after a moment. “I don’t.”
“Anything new happening in town?”
I did just fine on my own. The blonde woman’s sharp words rang through Beau’s head. Those eyes, ones with every color a person’s eyes could contain… brown, but with streaks of green, yellow, and even blue. He’d only looked into them for a moment, but somehow, he could still see them now.
“No.” Beau cleared his throat and turned away. “Nothing new.”
Continue on… Her Wild Journey
The story goes on…
I hope you have as much fun reading this book as I have writing about it. If your reading bug persists, simply choose any of the stories below to continue reading!
Book 1 - Her Winding Path
Book 2 - Her Western Heart
Book
3 - Her Wild Journey
Book 4 - Her Rocky Trail
Book 5 - Her Unexpected Destiny
Book 6 - Her Silent Burden
Book 7 - Her Fearless Love
Her Western Heart_Seeing Ranch series Page 22