The Drifter's Mail-Order Bride: (A Western Historical Romance) (The Dalton Brides Book 4)

by Cassie Hayes

  A sense of horror washed over her and suddenly she felt faint. All she wanted was for her sister to leave. Through a buzzing in her head, she heard Libby ask if she was all right, but she couldn’t answer. All she could do was feel. That needed to stop. Now.

  Somehow she muddled through the rest of the conversation but she had no idea what she was saying. The entire time, the same terrible words kept running through her head:

  I’m in love with my husband.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Bonnie pressed her back on the door she’d just closed behind Libby. The sound of blood rushing in her ears drowned out the world. She was shaking like a leaf, and when her knees gave out, she slid down the door into a crumpled, heaving pile.

  Sobbing on the bare wood, she pressed her hot cheek to its coolness, heedless of splinters. Her breath hitched and shoulders shook as she was overcome with despair. How could she be in love with Bart?! She’d run away from Beckham to avoid a life of misery, only to fall in love with a man who could never love her. It was the worst possible outcome.

  Tears flowed freely and pooled under her. She’d never been much of a cryer, but the wall she’d spent her whole life building was crumbling around her, leaving her vulnerable. She hated it.

  All those times she’d had crushes on boys who didn’t know she even existed were nothing compared to her feelings for Bart. How could she make such a mistake as to let her defenses down with him? How had she not seen that she was falling for him? After her talk with Libby, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in her mind that she was in love. Madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love.

  Looking back, she recognized the signs. She woke up early every morning, more chipper and eager to please him than the day before. Without even knowing it, she tried to top herself with every meal she fed him, hoping to impress him. Whenever he told a funny story or a joke, she giggled like a schoolgirl. And when he touched her…oh, how she longed for those moments.

  From the moment she met him, she knew Bart was a good man, even if he was a drifter and habitually tardy. He’d taken great pains to make sure she knew who and what he was because he didn’t want her getting any funny ideas about a future together. He was quite clear that was never going to happen, and she admired him for his honesty. Many men might have been tempted to take advantage of the situation, leaving her high and dry later. Not Bart. He was a man of integrity.

  She couldn’t pretend to understand his desire to never settle down, but she respected it. His stories of the adventures he’d had were thrilling, and the idea of spending the night under a great black sky sounded quite romantic. Of course, if it were her, she’d want someplace to call home, too.

  But it wasn’t her, and he wasn’t asking her to join him. He was his own man and he moved around for his own reasons. Reasons she would never fully comprehend.

  Her tears finally ran out, leaving Bonnie exhausted on the floor. She imagined the broken wall of bricks guarding her heart and picked up a trowel. If she was going to live the rest of her life in love with a man who didn’t love her — and who would most likely be gone within months — she’d better start patching that wall back up.

  Slowly, she pulled herself together and stood. Swaying in the middle of the nearly empty cabin, she took a deep breath and let the chill of her reality fill her down to her toes.

  The last thing Bonnie Blue would ever do was give up, so she would just have to adapt. And to adapt she had to live. And to live she had to eat. Yes, the first thing she needed to do was finally make herself a meal.

  A meal for one.

  Chapter 21

  Light was just starting to brighten the night sky by the time Bonnie fell asleep. She couldn’t rightly call it sleep, more like an exhausted stupor. She woke hours later, barely refreshed at all. A glance out the bedroom window revealed gray skies that reflected her mood.

  She had no idea what time it was but it had to be mid-morning by now. If she was going to get back into a routine — one that didn’t include Bart — she was going to have to start by waking at a more reasonable hour.

  Today she would bake for herself, and talk to Walt and Nate about trading household chores. If she kept teaching their wives how to become better cooks, there was no doubt they would agree to whatever she wanted.

  This was cold comfort because she could never have what she really wanted. He was out on the prairie somewhere, probably not even thinking twice about her.

  Another brick was set in place.

  Moving into the kitchen, she stoked the fire in the stove. She lit it the night before and was determined to keep it hot. The way she lost her appetite after Bart left frightened her a little, and she didn’t want to let it happen again.

  She’d tried to cook a small meal, just for herself, but naturally she overdid it. Venison stew would be on the menu for days, but that didn’t bother her much. She would get the hang of it eventually, and maybe on the odd days she made extra, she could invite the others over.

  Speaking of, she was rather surprised one or the other of her sisters hadn’t demanded her attention and time this morning. If she wasn’t at one of their homes early, they were hustling over to fetch her to fix some disaster or teach them how to sweep the floor. Nate and Walt were almost certainly out working, so maybe they were finally doing things on their own.

  Suddenly she missed their company. All her life, she’d been surrounded by family, rarely getting any time to herself. Naturally she cherished those quiet moments, and she would often take long walks alone. But standing there in the tiny cabin, she’d never felt more lonely in her life.

  Telltale pinpricks behind her eyes warned of tears. Shaking her head, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat in the cabin’s sole chair. She’d meant to meet with Mr. Standish, the furniture maker, when they’d gone to town, but in all the hustle and bustle, she completely forgot. Maybe she didn’t need anything more than this, since it would soon be just her in the place.

  Tears threatened again but she sniffed them away. This was what she’d always wanted! A life of an independent woman. Maybe she’d write a book about her own life one day! A sigh of defeat escaped her lips. She wasn’t really believing it yet, but maybe one day she would.

  The sound of a wagon brought her to her feet. Bart? No, it couldn’t be. He only took Roamer when he left. This was someone else.

  Before the horses came to a stop outside her door, she was setting the shotgun just inside it. She didn’t want to be inhospitable, but she was a lone woman out on the prairie with no men around. If anything bad was going to happen, she wanted to be prepared.

  Swinging the door wide, Bonnie could only gape at what she saw. Mr. Standish and another man were perched on the seat of his wagon, smiling at her. The back was packed with a variety of furniture pieces, each more beautiful than the next. Hopping down, he tipped his hat at her.

  “Howdy, ma’am. Reckon you’ve been chomping at the bit to get this order. I wish I coulda got ‘em to ya sooner, but I only had so much already made.”

  “I…what is all this?” she asked.

  Mr. Standish looked amused. “Bart didn’t tell ya? Guess he wanted to surprise his new bride. Ain’t that sweet, Mitch?”

  Mitch, a big man with a quiet nature, nodded and began unloading the wagon. There was a full-sized table and set of six chairs, a beautiful kitchen sideboard, a rocking chair and…was that a bed?

  “Mr. Standish, I don’t understand,” she said, following as the men lugged the table inside.

  “Where do you want it, Mrs. Dalton?” he asked, panting with exertion. It was a big table. Not knowing what else to do, she pointed where Bart’s homemade table sat.

  “Thought Bart woulda told ya. He ordered up this lot here just before church started. I already had all of it ‘cept the chairs. He insisted on six chairs instead of just four. Told him it’d take a week. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Bart did this?” She could barely hear her own voice.

  “Sure did,” he said, walking b
ack out for another load.

  The men hustled in and out, moving the load into the cabin, leaving Bonnie to stand in awe as her little shack turned into a home almost instantly. She couldn’t have been more pleased with the furniture and her heart swelled that Bart had been so thoughtful to place the order.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t stop a few tears from spilling, so she hurried into the kitchen to make some coffee for Mr. Standish and his man Mitch. She didn’t want them to see her crying so she kept her back turned when one of them came tromping back into the house.

  “I hope you’ll stay for a cup of coffee before you go,” she called out.

  “I just get home and you’re already kicking me out?”

  Bonnie almost dropped the pot at the sound of Bart’s amused tone. Whipping around, she lost the ability to think when she saw him leaning his back against the door jamb, one boot kicked up behind him, and a broad smile on his handsome, scruffy face. That darn wall was shaking like it was in an earthquake, and so was she.

  Turing back to the stove, she busied herself, not daring to look at him. What was her life going to be like if he had this effect on her every time he walked in the room? Maybe she’d be better off running back home, getting an annulment and marrying that old geezer. The thought churned her stomach.

  “Welcome back,” she said more stonily than she intended. She had to shore up her failing wall.

  “It’s good to see ya, Bonnie Blue,” he said, pushing away from the door and moving toward her, his boots clumping on the floor.

  She didn’t know what to say. Of course it was good to see him, too, but she didn’t dare say such a thing. But she had to say something…anything.

  “You forgot to take off your boots,” she finally whispered.

  He paused for a moment, then chuckled. “What do ya know.” He resumed his slow walk toward the kitchen.

  All the while, Bonnie kept her head down, focusing on the brewing coffee. This was torment! She wanted nothing more than to fly into his arms, to tell him how she felt, but she wouldn’t be able to survive the rejection that was sure to come.

  “You’re back early,” she finally squeaked out. “I wasn’t expecting you for a week.”

  “Yeah?”

  She jumped at how close his voice was behind her. Slowly she turned to face him. She didn’t want to but it seemed she was powerless to resist. Looking up into his deep brown eyes sent shivers throughout her body. Blinking madly, she nodded. “Uh huh…” she sighed.

  He stepped closer to her, never moving his gaze from hers. They were inches apart and her insides felt like the raging rapids of a river. What was he doing?

  “Did you miss me?” he murmured, one hand reaching up to stroke a stray hair from her forehead. His finger traced a slow line down her cheek to her neck. She couldn’t stop the shudder that wracked her small frame.

  She also couldn’t stop from nodding slightly. “Uh huh…” she sighed again.

  A sweet smile touched his lips ever so slightly. “That’s good to hear. Cuz I missed you somethin’ awful, Bonnie Blue.”

  His gaze dropped to her lips and hers did the same as he lowered his head toward hers. Was this really happening? Was he really going to kiss her?

  “That’s the last of it, Mrs. Dalt—“ Mr. Standish stopped at the threshold. Bonnie gasped and pulled away from Bart, spinning back around to the stove. Bart sighed behind her.

  “Oh, sorry for interrupting! Bart, good to see ya. I left the bill on the table. Bye now!” He ran out of the cabin and rode his team away.

  The tension in the kitchen was thicker than butter on Christmas Day. Bonnie fiddled around with the coffee, hoping Bart would go sit at their new table but he just leaned against the kitchen entryway, watching her.

  “Coffee?” she asked. It seemed she could only find one word at a time.

  “I’d rather have something sweeter,” he said, his tone teasing. She blushed furiously at his overt flirting. He’d never done that before. If she was going to survive his coming and going, she’d have to put a stop to that.

  Clenching her jaw, she turned to stare him down. “Bart, you listen here—“

  He thrust a box at her. It was flat and made of some kind of beautiful exotic wood, expertly varnished. She blinked in confusion. “What’s this?”

  One side of his mouth tilted up in a smirk. “Consider it a wedding present.”

  She frowned at that. It wasn’t seemly to make light of marriage, but she couldn’t totally blame him. This sham had been her idea, after all. As much as she thought a wedding present was inappropriate under the circumstances, she was curious to find out what was inside the exquisite case.

  Unfastening the shiny brass catch, she thumbed it open and gasped. Lying in individual indentations in a bed of dark red velvet was the tortoise-shell hair set she’d fallen in love with at the mercantile. Bonnie was speechless, her gaze flicking between him and the hair set. How did he know?

  Stepping forward again, Bart grabbed her shoulders, desperation twisting his handsome features. “Bonnie, I’ve spent my whole life wandering around looking for something. I never knew what it was till I met you. The first time I laid eyes on you, I was smitten, only I didn’t know it. I thought I knew what I wanted,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “I was a bigger hard-headed fool than Walt!”

  “I don’t understand.” She truly didn’t.

  He took the case and set it on the new sideboard, taking her limp hands in his. It seemed impossible that her heart could beat any faster than it was, but when he crouched down on one knee and looked up at her, his face open and loving, she thought it might pound right out of her chest.

  “Bonnie Blue, I love you with all my heart. When you came to live here, you turned an empty ol’ shack into a home full of love and laughter. And you turned this empty ol’ drifter into a man. I’m nothin’ without you, Bonnie. I know this was supposed to be a business arrangement and all that, but…”

  He paused and took a deep breath. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife…for real?”

  Tears spilled freely down her face but she paid them no mind. The man of her dreams, the love of her life was offering her the world. Why was she hesitating? She finally found the words.

  “What about your travels? Your adventures? Bart, you have no idea how much I want to accept what you’re offering but…if you left, it would break me.”

  Bart leapt to his feet and gathered her in his arms. They were as warm and comforting as the finest wool blankets. She pressed her face to his chest and breathed him in.

  “Bonnie Blue, you got cotton in your ears, girl? I’m half a man without you. I don’t want to step foot off this ranch unless you’re by my side. Just imagine all the adventures we could have together!”

  Bonnie pulled back. “Together? You want me to go with you on your safaris?”

  Cupping her face in his hands, he said, “You’re my wife. I want you with me always. Whaddya say?”

  He searched her face as he waited for her answer. But there was only one answer. Nodding and blinking away her tears, she nearly shouted, “Yes!”

  He grinned and hugged her tight, twirling her in a circle. Setting her back on her feet, he cupped her face again, lowering his until his lips were just an inch from hers. His hot breath made her dizzy and she couldn’t wait for their first true kiss.

  “Hoo boy, this has been a long time coming,” he whispered.

  Tears brightened her eyes as she smiled at him. “Better late than never.”

  Epilogue

  The Dalton Ranch, Christmas Day, 1888

  Bart had never been happier. All those years, he’d laughed at the drifters who settled in one place, but now he was proud to join their ranks. He had the smartest, most beautiful wife in the world, and the Dalton Empire, as Walt liked to call it, was thriving. It wasn’t big yet, but it was growing by leaps and bounds every day.

  So was his sister-in-law Gwen’s belly. She and Walt were over the moon with j
oy that Gwen was expecting, and Bart suspected that some of their pride involved being the first Daltons to have a baby. Walt always liked to be the best at everything.

  And for the first time in his life, Bart was completely fine with it.

  “That was a fine meal Libby, Gwen,” Nate mumbled through a mouthful of food, patting his stomach. “I don’t know when I’ve eaten as much.”

  “And to think we had no help from Bonnie!” Gwen said proudly.

  Bart smiled noncommittally because, as delicious as the meal was, it couldn’t compare to anything Bonnie had ever made him. But he had to admit that her sisters had taken her lessons to heart, and they were very good students.

  “You’re a wonderful cook,” Walt was saying to Gwen. “I can’t wait for you to teach our…well, whatever it is we’re having.”

  “Even if it’s a boy?” asked Bart, trying to needle his older brother a little.

  “Even if it’s a boy,” Walt said with a smile.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Libby fidgeting in her chair. Before he could think twice about it, Bonnie spoke up.

  “Who’s ready for dessert?”

  Dessert?! Bonnie made the best pies on earth. It was all she could do to keep him out of them as they cooled on the sideboard earlier in the day. But she was a smart woman and distracted him in other, much more pleasing ways.

  “You know I am!” he and Walt in unison. There was a moment’s pause, then everyone burst out laughing. In fact, they were laughing so loud, no one even noticed when the door was thrown open.

  Walt spotted the intruders first. He came halfway out of his chair and barely had time to say “What the…” before the very distinct sounds of shotguns being cocked stopped him.