by Amelia Autin
Gideon’s Bride
Amelia Autin
For my mother and father, with love—
You read and sang to me as a child, and proved that lifelong dreams can come true.
And with gratitude to my RWA sisters—
The dreams were mine, but the skills were yours.
Thank you for sharing.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Prologue
“Jo, I’ve got a problem. And I only see one solution.”
Gideon Lowell stood bareheaded in the deserted cemetery on the outskirts of the sleepy Wyoming town of Carter’s Junction. His worn, gray cowboy hat rested atop a tombstone that read, “Johanna Lowell. Beloved wife and mother.”
But she’d been so much more. Scarcely a day went by that he didn’t miss her since he’d brought her home from Los Angeles to rest forever on this lonely, windswept hillside. At night he still reached for her in his sleep. He even turned around sometimes, expecting to see her, but she was never there. Wife, lover, friend. Mother of his children. He had loved her all his life.
“You know how hard it’s been on the kids since you’ve been gone. Three housekeepers in less than two years. Shuttled back and forth between the Rocking L and your sister Emily’s place whenever the latest housekeeper left. For myself, I wouldn’t care, Jo. I could make do.” He cleared his throat, his breath visible in the frigid February air. “But the kids, honey. For their sake I’ve got to break my promise to you.”
If anyone had been around to see him talking to himself, Gideon would have been mortally embarrassed. But since he was alone on this snow-covered hillside, he could do as he pleased without worrying about his neighbors thinking he’d gone over the edge.
Gideon didn’t come to the cemetery much anymore. With three children to raise and a thriving sheep ranch to run there wasn’t a lot of time left over. Furthermore, it was a painful reminder of the worst day in his thirty-three years. But there were still times when he felt compelled to talk things over with Johanna. He’d always done so ever since they were kids, and even though he knew she was dead, Gideon didn’t see why that meant he had to stop.
He crouched to brush away the snowdrifts from the bottom of the gravestone with his bare hand. “They need a mother, Jo,” he continued, “not a housekeeper. Nicki still isn’t talking, and the doctors say she’s probably locked herself away from being hurt again. She needs a stable home life and a lot of love if she’s ever going to come out of this.”
His heart ached as he thought of their eldest child, Nicki. Their firstborn. He’d delivered her himself because Johanna had waited too long to announce she was in labor and they hadn’t made it all the way into Sheridan in time. If only he could bring Nicki through this as easily as he’d brought her into the world.
“And then there’s Trina. Losing you has made her afraid she’s going to lose me, too. She cries whenever I leave her at Emily’s. And Andrew...he’s not even two yet, but still he knows there’s something missing from his life. He hardly ever laughs.”
He sighed deeply. “I’ve tried, Jo. God knows, I’ve tried. But I can’t do it alone anymore. The insurance money paid off the mortgage on the ranch and the rest is in the bank for the kids’ education, so their future is secure. But money can’t give them what they need right now. They need a mother. Someone who won’t pack up and leave when things get tough. Someone to be there for them, to love them and help me care for them.”
Gideon stood up and squinted into the setting sun, ignoring the cold seeping into his bones. “So, as I said, honey, I’ve got to partly break a promise to you. I know I swore there’d never be another woman for me—that I’d remain faithful to you for always.”
He leaned his weight on one hip in a casual stance belied by the harsh intensity of his tone. “I’ve never broken my word on that. But the kids need a mother, and the only way I can see to give them one without giving them up is to get married again.”
The wind off the mountains to the west picked up, ruffling Gideon’s golden brown hair and dusting snow over the grave he’d just brushed clean.
“Now, don’t fret about it. It isn’t anyone you know. As a matter of fact, it isn’t anyone I know, either. I’ve thought it over, and I realized that the only way to do this, the only way I can bear to do this, is to advertise for a wife. That way, she won’t be expecting things from me I don’t have left to give.”
Gideon pulled two long white envelopes from the pocket of his sheepskin jacket. “I’ve already written an ad for the Casper newspaper and a letter to one of those mail-order bride publications. You know, the ones we used to make jokes about. Somehow, it’s not so funny anymore.”
He cleared his throat again. “I won’t lie to you, Jo. The loneliness gets pretty fierce at times. Our bed has been cold and empty for a long time. I need sometimes, Johanna. I dream of you and wake so hard and aching, that I think I’ll die of it. I reach for you and you’re not there. You’ll never be there again.” His voice deepened. “And I’m only human, honey. I know there’ll be times when I turn to her for relief. But she’ll never be you. She’ll never fill your place in my heart, I promise you. I’ll love you till I die, Johanna. Nothing can ever change that.”
He stood for a long time in silence, his powerful body casting a long blue shadow over the snow. At last Gideon reached for his Stetson, settling it firmly on his head.
“I have to go now, honey. Emily has the kids again and I want to stop off to spend some time with them.” He tapped the envelopes. “And I have to get these to the post office before the mail goes out.” Gideon glanced around, reassuring himself that he was alone, then placed his large, callused hand on the headstone.
“I love you.”
Chapter 1
Not quite three months later Gideon was regretting his decision to advertise for a wife.
After a hard day’s work that had begun before sunrise, he sat on his front porch, his chair tilted back and his muddy boots propped on the porch railing. His hat shielded his face from the late afternoon sun. He looked relaxed, as if nothing more than enjoying the unusually warm spring day occupied his mind, but looks were deceiving.
What could have possessed him to place those ads? He’d endured the gentle and not-so-gentle teasing of his ranch hands, the whole town of Carter’s Junction, and practically the entire county, for that matter. The reproachful looks of his sister-in-law, Emily, seared him with guilt. And his daughters had listened to his explanation in horrified silence, until Trina spoke for them both. “Don’t you love Mama anymore?” Her childish voice had quavered, then dissolved into tears.
All this, and for what? To date he’d had twelve responses to his ads. Three had shocked him with their suggestive language and explicit photos, five had been from city dwellers who’d never set foot on a ranch, two had been from women old enough to be his mother, for God’s sake. The last two possibilities hadn’t panned out, either. One had answered his ad only as a joke. The other seemed almost perfect on paper, but when she came to visit, Gideon could almost see her adding up his net worth as she toured the sheep ranch. He couldn’t hustle her off his land fast enough.
“So what the hell do I do now?”
Almost as the words left his mouth, he spotted a plume of dust heading his way up the winding, two-mile drive
from the main road. Gideon’s mood lightened with anticipation. Was Emily bringing his kids for a surprise visit? God, he hoped so. He hadn’t seen them in three days. He tried to get over to the Holden ranch at least every other day, although the seventy-mile round trip meant he was able to spend only an hour or so in the evening with his children.
But he’d known on Sunday that this week’s hectic schedule probably wouldn’t allow him to see his kids until Thursday night. It had been gut-wrenching, as always, leaving them with Emily, even though he knew he had no choice. But the situation was fast becoming desperate. If he didn’t find someone soon...
To Gideon’s disappointment, he realized it wasn’t Emily’s station wagon heading his way. In fact, he didn’t recognize the car at all, which was unusual. The Rocking L was off the beaten track and they rarely had unannounced visitors.
Someone lost, or a salesman, maybe. Has to be. Well, I’m not buying anything, but I welcome the company. Anything to take my mind off my troubles.
Stretching, Gideon rose to his full six feet three inches and pushed his Stetson farther back on his head. He stepped down from the porch just as the driver of the expensive foreign sports car adroitly avoided the mud puddle nearest the house and pulled up in front of him.
A young woman with a cloud of dark hair got out. The quiet elegance of her clothes looked as out of place on a working ranch as her car, Gideon noted absently, even as he enjoyed the picture she made. His eyes started at her dainty feet and lazily worked their way up.
Nice legs. Tiny waist. Not much on top, but enough to give a man ideas. Pretty, too, in a quiet sort of way, and those dark curls make you want to tangle your fingers in them and—
Gideon caught himself up short. Where the hell had that thought come from?
She shaded her eyes against the bright sun and peered up at him. “Hi.”
He nodded, touching his hat brim. “Ma’am.”
“Is this the Rocking L?”
Gideon nodded again.
“Can you tell me where I can find Gideon Lowell?”
“You’ve found him.”
“Oh.” The woman’s hand dropped to her side and she looked a little taken aback.
“Can I help you?” A sudden suspicion hit him but he waited.
“I came...” A puff of wind blew a silky curl across her face and she brushed it away, tucking it behind her ear. “Look, can we sit down somewhere?” She took two steps toward him. “I’ve come a long way to see you.”
“Lady, if you came for the reason I think, you can just turn around and head back.”
A flicker of—could it be fear?—touched her face. “What do you mean?”
“If you’re here because of my ad, you’re wasting your time.”
“They said in Carter’s Junction that you haven’t found a wife yet. Were they wrong?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand. You haven’t even given me a chance.”
“I don’t need to. I can see all I need to know.” At her questioning look, Gideon continued. “You’re too young, you’re too puny, and your car and your clothes say ‘city woman.’ Do I have to go on?”
Her eyes narrowed, her chin tilted up, and she planted her hands on her hips. “I’m twenty-five, I spent the first fifteen years of my life on a ranch in Montana, and as for ‘puny,’ any woman would be puny next to a mountain of a man.”
Her challenging stance reminded Gideon of a stubborn mare he’d once owned. He’d badly misjudged that horse and had the scar to prove it. Obviously he’d made a similar mistake here. He suppressed the urge to grin.
She must have seen something in his expression, though, because she relaxed a little and moved closer. “Please. Can’t we sit down and talk about this?”
It was a perfectly reasonable request, but it was the soft, pleading note in her voice that persuaded him. Backing up, Gideon nodded toward the chairs on the porch, then followed the woman up the stairs. She headed for the seldom-used rocking chair. Johanna’s chair. He shoved that thought from his mind and removed his hat, using it as an excuse not to watch her.
“How did you find me? The ads gave only a post office box in Carter’s Junction.”
She seated herself before responding. “When I arrived in town I asked around. The waitress in the café gave me directions.”
“But why didn’t you write first?”
She considered the question carefully, then said, “I wanted to meet you in person, so I just...took a chance.”
Gideon nodded, accepting her answer. As he settled into his own chair he almost missed the odd look of relief that crossed her face. He wondered what it meant, but didn’t pursue it. “So, now you’re here. Tell me about yourself.”
She fumbled a little at first, as if unsure where to start. “I...as I said, I was born and raised on a cattle ranch in Montana, about two hundred miles from Billings. When I was fifteen, my father died. My mother sold the Circle F, which had been in my dad’s family for three generations, and moved us to Los Angeles where she was from originally.”
Gideon couldn’t hide his reaction to the name of the city, and she stopped. “My wife died in Los Angeles,” he said curtly. She said nothing and Gideon shook off the memories. “Go on. Please.”
“I hated living in the city, but I had no choice. After two years my mother remarried, but she’s dead now. Other than my stepbrother, there’s really nothing to keep me in Los Angeles. I’ve always planned to come back to this way of life, but between college, and...and other things, it never happened.”
“I see.”
She leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap as she listed her qualifications. “I’m a good plain cook. My grandmother taught me, and she was a rancher’s wife for almost forty years. I’d match my biscuits up against anybody’s—the recipe is an old family secret. I’m a fairly good housekeeper, too, as long as cleanliness, not spotlessness, is your goal. I can muck out a stable, although it’s not my favorite pastime. I can ride a horse like nobody’s business.” She flashed a smile. “My father used to say I was born in the saddle.” She paused, her expression turning soft and vulnerable. “And I love children.”
Gideon studied her for a long time, liking the way her eyes met his. Up close she appeared older than he’d originally thought, but still younger than she claimed. Perhaps that was due to the slenderness of her body and her delicate features. But there was character in her face, and determination. This lady knew what she wanted, and surprisingly she wanted to be his wife. That made him suspicious.
“But you’re young and pretty,” he said finally, “and obviously well-off. Most women want to fall in love before they marry. Why would you need to find a husband this way? What would you get out of this kind of marriage?” Gideon’s skepticism was obvious.
She chose her words with care. “I was in an accident a while back.” She raised a self-conscious hand, pushing the bangs off her forehead. For the first time Gideon saw the razor-thin scar that angled across it. Her hand then moved to her abdomen. “I had internal injuries, too,” she said quietly, with just a trace of some painful emotion evident. “Because of them I can never have children.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it. But you see, there aren’t a lot of men out there who want a wife who can’t give them children. At least, not ones I’d care to marry.” She smiled slightly. “You already have children of your own. My problem wouldn’t be a hardship for you.
“As for what I’d get out of this marriage, I’d get the chance I’ve been denied—to be a mother. I’d get the life I know and love and have longed for these past ten years. And I’d get a husband to whom my money isn’t important.” For an instant it looked as if she intended to say something more, but she didn’t.
Gideon watched her for several moments, then stood. Her eyes followed him. “Okay, I’ll buy that. There’s just one more thing I have to know, one thing you need to
do.” He stopped, not sure exactly how to say what he had to say next.
“What is it?”
“I want you to come into the house,” he said slowly, deeply, “and go upstairs with me to my bedroom.” His eyes held hers, leaving no doubt as to his meaning. “After that I’ll know for sure.”
Bright color surged into her face, then drained slowly away. Visibly shaken, she swallowed several times before she managed to say, “I can’t do that.” Her words were so soft he had to strain to hear them. She swallowed again, regret and something else coloring her next words. “I just can’t.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, not seeming to trust her voice, then rose abruptly and started for the steps.
“Wait.”
She swung around sharply, eyes wide with anger and a fear she tried to hide. He cursed himself silently. He hadn’t meant to frighten her, but he had to know.
“Please wait.”
She shook her head and backed away, forgetting the stairs behind her. She teetered on the edge for a panicked instant before Gideon’s quick reflexes saved her from tumbling into the dirt. Through the silk blouse she wore he felt the firmness of muscle as she tensed under his touch. She might look as if a strong wind would blow her away, but there was substance beneath her soft exterior.
Gideon held her only long enough for her to regain her balance on the porch step, then released her arm and backed off. “Please stay. I’d like to apologize.”
Chocolate brown eyes searched his hazel ones. She must have found what she was looking for there, must have believed his sincerity, because she only hesitated briefly before reseating herself in the rocking chair. She perched on the edge, though, as if poised for flight.
“I’m sorry.” Gideon’s voice was rough with embarrassment. He hitched his chair closer to hers and sat down so he wouldn’t loom over her. “I know how...crude my request must have sounded, but I didn’t know any other way to find out what I needed to know. You seemed sincere, but I’ve been fooled before. And if you’d been willing to jump into bed with a stranger, then you wouldn’t be the woman I want as mother for my children.”