by Kit Morgan
Once inside, she closed the door and listened to make sure no one else came up the stairs. Convinced all was quiet, she went to her dresser and opened the top drawer. Libby took out a balled up pair of stockings she'd hid in the back, unrolled it, and emptied her reticule into one. She then rolled the stockings up and shoved them into the back of the drawer once more. Mr. Pomeroy had given her more than she’d thought, so now their total was ten dollars and twenty cents! Bonnie's plan was moving along perfectly, and soon the three sisters would leave Beckham. As far as Libby was concerned, they couldn’t leave soon enough.
Two
The Dalton Ranch near Wiggieville, Texas, November 1888
Nate Dalton shoved his new sideboard against the wall of the dining area of his small cabin. He and his brother, Bart, had arrived in the late spring and had gotten right to work building their tiny castles of logs and mud. The structures weren’t much on the outside, but Nate, at least, was determined to make things decent on the inside. He'd worked for enough big spreads to develop a hankering for the finer things, and spent all his money on fancy furnishings for his tiny hovel. With the stove Walton ordered for each of them, his cabin was now complete. Consisting of two rooms, the dwelling did indeed seem like a castle. Most folks only had one.
With fists on hips, he surveyed his domain. A settee and two chairs, with a table in between, graced the living area in front of the fireplace. The dining area consisted of the stove, sideboard, table, and not two, but four chairs (in case he entertained), with a small worktable tucked into a corner. He planned to put in a dry sink one day, like if he got married in a year or two. For now, he didn’t need one.
He’d built a small bookcase and placed his masterpiece near the bedroom door. Unable to help himself, he strolled across the cabin and gazed at his costliest extravagance, a brass bed. He’d picked it up in Weatherford the week before, and deemed the bed the best purchase he'd ever made. He’d never slept better in his life.
Of course, considering what he did for a living, a good night’s sleep made all the difference. Working with cattle all day took a toll on a man, and quick. For the times he didn’t make it home after days of watching over the Dalton herds, his new acquisition was gonna come in mighty handy. He’d even purchased a quilt from some church ladies in the nearby town of Wiggieville. The multicolored spread lit up the room and made things downright cheery. Nate smiled, pleased with himself.
He returned to the kitchen area and, taking a box from the table, took out what few dishes he owned and stacked them on the sideboard. Later he supposed he'd get more, but for now, he needn't worry. One man didn't need a lot of dishes to get by. As far as cookery, he had a coffee pot and a good, sturdy frying pan. They would be enough.
Nate stretched, admired his home one last time, and set out. He needed to check the stock in the south pastures, before driving to Weatherford with Walt and Bart to meet some cattle buyers. Walt said he’d struck a deal to benefit all three of them. Walt could be pretty savvy when it came to business dealings, which meant Nate didn't have to. He'd done his fair share over the years, and was happy to let someone else take charge for a change. He’d rather see to the cattle, and not deal with ranchers who always tried to undercut him, or cattle barons too big for their britches. Men of their ilk irritated him to no end, and were a constant reminder of why he preferred a saddle over a desk.
If Walt had his way, however, their ranch would grow by leaps and bounds, and in a few years Nate might yet find himself behind a desk. But Walton would take care of things for now, and Nate welcomed him to it. Bart, the youngest of the three triplets, felt the same.
Speaking of Bart, where was he? Of course, Nate knew Bart was always late. To everything!
Two hours later, Nate returned. “I hope Bart remembers to show up,” he muttered as he headed to the barn to hitch up his buckboard. Walton had insisted they each bring their own, which made Nate wonder as to what kind of business deal Walt had gotten them into. But his older brother never steered him or Bart wrong, so Nate did what Walt wanted and, within minutes, his wagon was hitched up and ready to go.
“Bart’s late,” Walton announced as he strolled across the barnyard to Nate’s buckboard.
“He’s always late,” Nate told him. “Especially when he’s out on safari.”
Walton smiled. “Yeah, but for once I hope he breaks his record.”
Nate laughed. “Not likely. He loves the wild too much. But don't worry; I'm sure he’ll catch up.” The youngest of the three, Bart called his outings on prairies and into the hills, safaris. At first, Nate thought him silly before he realized why Bart took off so often. How could he not? They now lived in God’s country.
“You're right; he will,” agreed Walt. “Let's go.”
Nate watched as Walton strolled to his own wagon, climbed up and, with a slap of the reins, sped off. The drive to Weatherford took three hours on average, which made for small snippets of conversation between the two. Because they drove the wagons in single file, they shouted over the jangle of the harnesses to talk. But Nate didn't mind; he wasn't much of a talker anyway. In fact, he often preferred a good book to social gatherings, which was why he’d rather be out on the prairie with thousands of cattle; he didn't have to talk to them if he didn't want to.
When they reached Weatherford, Walt didn't drive to the stockyards as Nate had expected. Instead, he went straight to the train station. “What are we doing here?” he asked his older brother.
Walton gave him a huge grin. “You'll see.”
Nate knew that grin. Uh oh…
“Trust me, brother, this is one of the best deals I've ever made,” Walton said, his grin still in place.
“Who did you say we’re meeting?”
“I didn't.”
Nate stared at him as his mind raced. Did he tell them the cattlemen’s names? He only remembered the part about a business deal, one to change their lives in a big way. Nate had assumed that meant obtaining more cattle. He’d thought the reason they each needed to bring a buckboard was to get supplies for a new barn or some such thing. More cattle meant more men and horses to tend them. Is that why they were at the train station, to pick up extra workers?
Before he could ask, a train whistle blew. Nate sighed. He might as well wait and find out what Walt had up his sleeve. So far, everything his older brother had done since Nate and Bart had arrived in Texas was to their benefit. So why would this be any different?
The two men parked their buckboards, climbed down, and then jumped up on the platform to await whatever the train carried.
The iron horse came to a screeching stop as the whistle blew a second time, loud and clear. Nate turned to check the horses, fearing the animals might become spooked by the noise.
“Don't worry, they’re fine,” said Walt as he eyed the train in anticipation.
Nate followed his gaze, his own surge of excitement going up his spine. The conductor got off first, and then walked down to the passenger car to help the people disembark. A few men stepped off, followed by several women. Walt slapped Nate on the arm. “Are you ready?” he asked him with a smile.
“As ready as I'll ever be. Where's Bart?”
“If he's not here, that's his problem. Means we get first pick.”
“First pick?” Nate echoed as Walton made a direct path through the growing crowd. “Wait a minute,” Nate said as he caught up to him. “What do you mean, first pick?”
Walton ignored him and continued on toward three women huddled together on the platform. One of them, a beautiful blonde, looked annoyed. Another, a brunette, appeared more nervous, and the third, a homely thing, stood stiff, as if to keep herself in check. “Are you ladies the Blue sisters?” Walton asked.
The blonde gawked before she glared at him and nodded. “Who are you?”
“I'm Walton Dalton, and I pick you.”
Nate watched in shock as Walt grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. She opened her mouth to protest, and his wily br
other kissed her before she uttered a word.
What the heck?
The blonde stomped on his foot for his trouble. “Unhand me!”
Nate stood speechless as Walt smiled down at her. “I'll unhand you for now. Preacher's standing by.”
“Preacher?” Nate whispered to himself. “What preacher?”
“Which sister are you?” Walt asked her, without relinquishing his hold.
“I'm Gwendolyn. Why do you persist in touching me? I don't know you!”
A good question; Nate wondered the same thing himself. Sure his brother had the same drive and hunger as the next man to bed a woman. But why on earth did he grab the girl and kiss her like that?
The homely-looking one came forward. “I'm Bonnie. I'm the oldest sister. I believe I'm the one you're supposed to marry.”
Nate’s mouth fell open in shock, but no one paid him any mind. “Ma … ma …” Dagnnabit! Flabbergasted, he couldn’t speak the word! Married?
Walt’s eyes darted between the two sisters. “I don't care who's oldest. I'm marrying this one.” He nodded at Nate, pulling him from his stupor. “That's my brother, Nate. Bart’s not here now, but I'm sure he'll be along.”
Nate stood and stared at the women and Walt in open-mouthed shock. Bart better be along! If he and Walt were in cahoots, he was going to kill them both!
The one called Bonnie glared at Walt a moment before she turned her death stare on Nate, whose eyes shifted to the brunette for safety’s sake. But he felt Bonnie’s gaze on him, as if daring him to turn and meet it. “Libby's the youngest,” she said as if announcing an important piece of information.
Nate shook himself, and glanced between Walt and the one with the death stare. What in Sam Hill were they talking about? “I thought we were here to see about some cattle,” he stammered.
Walt gave him his signature grin. “Surprise! Since Bart isn't here, you get next pick. Which one do you want for your bride?”
Nate blinked once, twice. What he wanted at this point was a drink. Had he heard him right? Walt couldn’t … he wouldn’t … would he? “You sent off for brides for us? The cattle salesman was a lie?”
Walt shrugged. “I didn't think you'd come if I told you why we were really here.” He kissed the blonde on the top of her head, furthering his claim. “Pick one.”
Nate seethed, and before he could stop himself—or for lack of a better idea—he pointed at the brunette. What was her name again? “I guess I'll take the youngest.” Despite making a choice, this didn’t mean he wasn’t still mad as a rattler. He leaned toward Walt, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I'll take care of you later.”
The blonde gasped. “You can't just pick me and say you'll marry me. No! What on earth is happening here? Bonnie? What have you done?”
That’s what I’d like to know! Nate thought, too angry at this point to speak.
The woman in question blinked a few times in confusion. She looked like she was ready to cry. “Libby knew why we were here…”
Ah, yes, that’s the girl’s name…
“…we just didn't want you to be stubborn. We rescued you, after all.”
Rescue? What rescue? Nate folded his arms across his chest, sensing a battle coming.
“Rescued me? You kept me from marrying a crazy old man, yes, but he was at least someone I knew! Now you expect me to marry a total stranger? He has a stupid name!”
Nate jerked at the statement. Ouch. He glanced at his brother, who looked as equally perturbed.
“I can't marry a man named Walton Dalton!” she prattled on. “Who would name their child that? What if he thinks we should name our child Dalton Dalton, or something?”
Nate saw Walt bristle. He’d always been a little sensitive about his name. The little chit was in for it now. “You're my bride,” he told her. “You have no right to be making fun of my name like that. My pa's name was Alton, and he wanted to have another special name like that for me.”
Gwen, was that her name, turned on him, her face red with anger. Nate leaned on one foot and studied the brunette again. Hmmm… He had to admit, she was pretty, what with her cream-colored skin, dark curls, and blue eyes.
“Special?” Gwen snapped pulling his attention away from his so-called bride. “You think your name is special? Well, let me tell you, it's not. It's just plain silly. I can't marry a man who has such an awful name. Find someone else!”
Nate pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. His earlier shock changed to amusement as he watched the two combatants go at it.
Walt’s expression turned devilish. Nate knew the look. The woman didn’t stand a chance. His brother gripped her shoulders and leaned down until they were eye to eye. “I've found my bride. We're marrying today. Don't make me take you over my knee as soon as we get home.”
Nate put a fist to his mouth to keep from exploding into laughter. The sudden shock on the blonde’s face was priceless.
She screeched something about threats, and then bombarded him with talk about visiting a friend from school. But when she said, “I had no idea the real reason I was brought here was to marry a stranger! You can't blame me for getting angry about that,” he blanched.
She did have a point and, Nate had to admit, he agreed with her. Walt had tricked him, and Bart, if his guess was right, just as this woman’s sisters had tricked her.
Walt shrugged. “Maybe I can't get angry for that, but I can certainly be mad at you for the way you're talking to me. I didn't trick you. Your sister did. Take it out on her.”
Nate watched the eldest, Bonnie, and wondered what she would do. Meanwhile, Gwen stood and glared at the lot of them. “I’ll be back.” She turned and stomped down the platform. Walt stood a moment in indecision, before he took off after her.
Nate watched him go. He didn’t envy the woman when he caught up to her. Walt could break anything. A horse, a dog, he even got a chicken to mind him once. But Miss Blondie was going to put his brother’s skill to the test.
“I’m sorry your brother didn’t tell you about us.”
“Huh?” Nate said as his attention was pulled to the eldest sister. “Oh, yeah. Walt’s like that.”
“You … you do still want to marry my other sister, don’t you?”
“Look, uh …”
“Bonnie,” she said. “And this is Libby.”
His gaze drifted back to the small brunette. She looked frightened and excited all at once. “Bonnie. It’s not that I haven’t thought of taking a wife. I just didn’t plan on taking one today.”
“I understand how you must feel.”
“Do you? How long have you and Walt been planning this?”
“Ever since Gwen …” Her sister, Libby, kicked her in the shin. “Ouch!”
Nate raised a curious brow and looked from one sister to the other. “Well?”
“Mr. Dalton, we’ve come a long way. We’re tired, and we’re hungry. The least you could do is…”
“Say no more. I’ve a little jerky in my wagon. Would you like some?”
They both gawked at him. Didn’t they know what jerky was? “Thank you,” they said in unison.
He nodded, almost afraid if he left them alone for a second, they’d bolt and run. But, wouldn’t it be more of a relief? Why worry about them in the first place? He went to the wagon, dug into a small bag of supplies he always kept there, and pulled out a few pieces of jerky.
When he returned, the two women sat on the platform’s only bench. “Here; it’s not much, but it will tide you over for awhile.”
“What’s a while?” Libby asked, speaking for the first time.
He stared at her. He’d always like redheads, but he could get used to a brunette. “If my guess is right, we’ll be making a trip to the preacher’s house as soon as Bart gets here.”
“And he’s to be Bonnie’s groom?”
Nate swallowed hard. “Yes,” he managed. Why did this little thing affect him like this?
Good grief, if a strong enough wind came
along, she’d blow away! He shook himself and forced his eyes in the direction of her sister, Bonnie. “Bart’s a good man, you’ll see. In fact, we’re all good men, if you don’t mind me saying so. We don’t cuss much, drink only when we have a mind to, and are hard workers.”
“Does this mean you’re working hard to get used to the idea we’re here?” the little brunette asked.
Nate swallowed again. His heart began to pound in his chest and, for the first time in a
long time, he felt a pang of longing. Because of his brother’s initiative, he’d be taking this pretty little thing home with him as his bride. “I think I’m getting used to the idea.”
Bonnie sighed in resignation as she chewed on her jerky. “I’m glad to hear it.”
He nodded, not knowing what else to do, and sat next to his intended. “Libby …”
“Yes?” she breathed.
“I was seeing how it sounded when I say it.”
She gazed at him, wide-eyed, and a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, but what’s your name again?”
He coughed, and almost fell off the bench. She forgot his name, too? He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his anger in check. He wanted to kill Walt for this, but at the same time, he wanted to thank him for the craziest day of his life! “Nathanial, Nate, for short.”
“Nate …” she repeated in a soft voice. “I think I like it.” She swallowed hard and took her sister by the hand.
Her sister sighed again, and this time, Nate could tell it was out of relief. Maybe she was worried Libby wouldn’t take to the idea of being a mail-order bride, and was worried she’d react the same way their sister, Gwen, had. He was about to say as much when Walt came back with his blonde goddess in tow, and not a moment later, Bart arrived.