Once a Mail Order Bride

by Bold, Diana

  Despite the passion that had flared between them, Luke Chandler was not the husband she’d hoped for. But she refused to give up. Somewhere in this town, there had to be a man who was worthy of her respect.

  She’d already received two proposals of marriage. The first had come from a huge, ugly man who seemed to be looking for a mother to take care of his half-dozen children. The second came from a widower old enough to be her grandfather.

  She’d refused both, but her attempts to find honest work had met with complete and utter failure. During the last three days, she’d had a dozen doors slammed in her face. Everyone in town thought she’d been intimate with Luke. Worse yet, the general consensus seemed to be that he’d found her lacking and that was why he’d sent her away.

  This morning, she’d run out of time. Her money was gone, and the stern woman who owned the boarding house wouldn’t let her stay another night. She’d been left with two choices, either accept Jack Clark’s shady offer of employment or run back to Luke Chandler and beg him for help.

  Luke was her first choice, of course. She’d hoped to see him again, prayed he’d drop by to see how she was faring. He had to have known she was lying to him that day in front of the bank.

  But he hadn’t come, and there was no reason to expect that he would. He’d told her he didn’t want a wife. It was foolish to keep hoping he’d change his mind.

  She was utterly alone in the world. No dashing prince was going to come save her. She had to make it on her own. She had no other choice.

  Chapter Six

  LUKE WAS SLUMPED IN a rocking chair on his front porch, drinking and staring morosely at the setting sun, when he saw a wagon crest the hill from town. He straightened, his eyes narrowing on the familiar face of the man behind the reins.

  At last, his meddling brother had come to see what his interference had wrought.

  Matt and his wife, Rebecca, were the only people in the world Luke gave a damn about. But he was hard-pressed to find a smile for them today.

  He’d been betrayed in the worst possible way. Matt had made him see his life for the pitiful shambles it was. He’d never forgive the bastard.

  He stood as Matt bounded up the porch steps and pulled him into a crushing embrace. “Luke,” he exclaimed. “God, it’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”

  Luke stiffened and disengaged himself. “Not nearly long enough.”

  Matt exchanged a glance with Rebecca. “I told you he’d be angry, sweetheart.” To Luke, he said, “Come on, let’s go inside. Then you can yell at us all you want.”

  “Us?” Luke glared at Rebecca. “You had a hand in this, Becky?”

  She took his hand, leading him into the house. “I’m sorry, Luke. We only wanted to help. We never thought things would turn out this way.”

  Luke followed his sister-in-law into the parlor. “What did you think would happen?” He whirled to face his brother. “And you, Matt. How could you? You chose me a wife like you’d pick a new stud for the ranch. This is my life! Don’t you think I should have some say in the matter?”

  Matt flushed and pulled the sheet off the sofa where Sarah had sat the day she arrived. A cloud of dust flew up and he grimaced. “Christ, Luke. You’ve lived here for two years. Don’t you think it’s time you took the damned covers off the furniture?”

  “You’re changing the subject,” Luke fired back. “Don’t you think I could have found a wife if I’d wanted one?”

  Matt shook his head. “You don’t know what you want. This house is a perfect example. How can you live like this? What are you hiding from?”

  Luke had bought the house completely furnished, after the previous owner had been unable to make a go of things. But once he’d moved in, he hadn’t had the energy to make the place his own. He’d been far too aware of the fact that he had no one to share it with and never would.

  “I’m not hiding.” Luke ran his hand through his hair in agitation. He was too incensed to sit. “God. Why are you doing this to me?”

  Rebecca’s dark eyes filled with tears, but Matt’s face was grim and relentless. “We’re worried about you. I can’t bear to watch you waste away in whiskey and self-doubt.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Maybe sending that girl up here wasn’t the wisest thing I’ve ever done, but at least it made you angry. At least now you’re feeling something.”

  “You don’t have the faintest idea what I feel. You still have both of your legs, you son of a bitch.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Luke regretted them. He sounded pathetic.

  Matt turned away, shaking his head in disgust. “I’m tired of feeling sorry for you, Luke. After all this time, I hoped you’d finally pull yourself together.”

  Luke flinched as though he’d been struck with a fist instead of mere words. Matt had always been his champion, his hero. He staggered back a step. “Is that what you think of me?”

  Rebecca shot her husband a withering look and rushed to Luke’s side. “Oh, Luke. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Neither of us did. We just want you to be as happy as we are. You’re so alone up here, and you never even try to meet anybody. We hoped you’d like this girl, like her enough to forgive our meddling and start a family.”

  Luke sighed and stared down at the floor, unable to look at either of them. “I don’t need a wife, Becky. Don’t you think Christine put me through enough hell?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.” Rebecca took his hand and squeezed it. “Matt and I feel terrible about what’s happened to Miss Montgomery, but you mustn’t worry. We’ll take care of it.”

  Luke pinned his brother with a fierce stare. “What is she talking about? What happened to Sarah?”

  Matt glanced at Rebecca, and a telling look passed between them. They were so connected to each other they could carry on an entire conversation without ever saying a word. God, he envied them that.

  Clearing his throat, Matt stepped forward. “We stopped in town before coming up here. Everyone was talking about Miss Montgomery.”

  Rebecca nodded. “That poor girl. After you sent her away, everyone assumed she’d been your lover, and no one would give her a job.”

  Luke didn’t know what shocked him more, the word ‘lover’ out of Rebecca’s sweet lips, or the small town hypocrisy that had been unleashed on Sarah. “She told me she’d be all right, that she’d been offered a teaching position.”

  “Today she accepted a job from Jack Clark,” Matt informed him.

  “Jack Clark?” Luke sank into the nearest chair. He should have known this would happen. Hell, he had known it would happen. The three of them had seen to it that Sarah had no choice but to work in a saloon.

  Rebecca took the chair across from him, her dark eyes expectant. “What should we do, Luke? You know her best. How can we make this up to her?”

  “Sarah has no family, no home. She left everything she knew behind, because you two promised her a better life.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you can make this right.”

  Sarah wouldn’t like being the object of Matt’s charity. Against his will, he recalled the fire in her eyes when he’d tried to pay her off that first day.

  Matt stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe we can find someone else to marry her. Is she pretty?”

  “Pretty doesn’t begin to describe her,” Luke muttered.

  “I knew it.” Matt gave him a triumphant smile. “I knew you’d like her.”

  “Go to hell.”

  Matt laughed. “Go after her, Luke. You know you want to.”

  If he wasn’t so angry, Luke might have found humor in his brother’s attempt to manipulate him. As it was, he didn’t see anything funny about Matt trying to inflame him into a jealous rage. Worst of all, Matt was right. He did want to go after her.

  He threw up his hands in defeat. “All right. I’ll go.”

  SARAH TRIED TO NAVIGATE her way through the maze of tables without spilling the heavy tray of drinks in her hands. Her hair had long since come loose from its chignon
and hung in limp tendrils down the back of her neck. She was hot and sweaty, the smoky air burned her lungs, and she was tired of dodging the men who grabbed at her skirts.

  Three hours to go. Lord, she didn’t know if she could make it. She’d already been on her feet for seven, running back and forth to the bar while trying to keep the orders straight in her head. How naïve she’d been this morning, thinking this job would be easy, that her main function would be to stand around and look pretty.

  A trickle of sweat dripped down her forehead, stinging when it slid into her eye. She set the drinks down at the appropriate table and tried to smile when one of the three men seated there made a suggestive comment. She turned blindly, swiping her face with the back of her wrist.

  “Sarah?”

  She froze, and then slowly lowered her arm. Luke Chandler stood in front of her. He wore a long black cloak and a wide-brimmed hat, but she would have known him anywhere.

  She’d never been so glad to see anybody in her life.

  His gray eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Luke.” Her chin rose in proportion to the censure in his voice. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No,” he snapped, grabbing her arm and propelling her across the room. Again she was amazed by how fast he could move when he wanted to.

  As soon as they were outside, he let her go. He took a step back and let his gaze travel over her body, lingering for a moment on the low neckline of her dress.

  Then he looked into her eyes. “Is this what you want? Would you rather work in a place like this than come to me for help?”

  Sarah took a deep, calming breath of the crisp night air, trying to think of a suitable reply. She wouldn’t shame herself by admitting just how much she needed him. “I don’t want your help. I’m not your responsibility.”

  He made a noise of exasperation and glanced away, gazing through the open door at the merry chaos inside the saloon. “Well, goddamn it. I feel responsible for you.”

  “So you’ve said.” She hugged her arms across her chest in an effort to ward off a chill. The breeze had cooled the perspiration on her skin, and she was freezing. “I should probably go back in.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his expression grim. “I want you to tell me why you lied about getting that teaching position.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Sarah asked. “Mr. Cole said such terrible things to me. He accused me of being your mistress and called me a fortune-hunting tart. I didn’t know what to do.”

  The look in Luke’s eyes gentled, and he reached forward to brush her cheek with his fingertips. “You don’t have to resort to this kind of work. Not when you have a friend who’s willing to help you. Come home with me. We’ll figure something out.”

  Sarah swallowed, fighting back tears of relief. He’d come for her. He was offering her a way out of this mess. She’d be a fool not to take it.

  Before she could reply, Jack Clark burst out the door. He was tall, lean, and elegant, with golden hair and cold eyes. He stared at the two of them, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Get the hell out of here, Chandler. You had your chance. The lady belongs to me now.”

  Luke stepped forward, putting himself between Sarah and her irate boss. “Miss Montgomery has changed her mind, Jack. She doesn’t want to work for you.”

  The gambler shifted his gaze to her. “Is that true? You’re gonna run out on me now, after I took you in?”

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

  “You owe me for that dress, and for letting you stay in that room all day.”

  “She’ll leave the dress behind, and she’s already worked several hours. Long enough to pay back whatever you think she owes you.” Luke’s eyes glittered with anger, and he took another aggressive step forward.

  “Fine.” Jack threw Sarah a seething glance. “Just remember. I took you in after he threw you out. I might not be so generous next time.” He shook his head and backed away. “Good riddance. Clear out your things.” He gave them another angry glare, then turned and stalked back inside, the double doors swinging shut behind him.

  Luke squeezed her shoulder. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  Sarah shook her head, knowing it would be hard for him to mount the rickety stairs. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  Chapter Seven

  LUKE WATCHED FROM JUST outside the swinging saloon doors as Sarah skirted the rickety wooden tables and the outstretched, booted feet of her former customers. His fists clenched with fury when he saw the lustful stares that followed her every step.

  When she reached the stairs, he turned away, leaning against the side of the building to wait.

  He’d prepared himself for a battle, but it had been surprisingly easy to get her to agree to come home with him. Her eyes had sparkled with happiness in that first moment before he’d started berating her.

  Had she expected him to come for her all along? Was she part of Matt’s manipulative schemes or just a pawn like himself? He seemed to be the only one who didn’t have the faintest idea what he was doing here.

  He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the rough plank siding of the saloon. Lord, there was no hope for it. He was going to have to marry the girl.

  Sarah returned in less than ten minutes, modestly clad in her worn gray dress. He took her battered bag and was shocked to discover how light it was.

  The poor thing. So few belongings, so much pride. “Did you get everything?”

  She nodded and gave him a faint smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He took her arm and led her toward the side of the building, where his bay gelding, Shiloh, waited. “I only brought one mount. We’ll have to ride double.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Luke secured her bag to the back of the saddle and then hesitated with one hand on the pommel. Mounting with only one leg was an awkward maneuver at best. He was afraid he’d fall flat on his ass and regretted the haste that had made him decide against hitching up the team.

  Sarah averted her eyes, fixing her gaze on the quiet street behind them. Luke blessed her for her astuteness, even though it shamed him.

  Taking a deep breath, he used his upper body strength to balance precariously on his bad leg while he put his good one in the stirrup and pulled himself into the saddle. Occasionally he fell before he could gain his balance, but tonight he managed the trick with ease.

  “Give me your hand,” he instructed, kicking his foot free of the stirrup so she could swing up in front of him. As she settled sideways in his lap, her soft little bottom nestled against his heated body and he winced a bit, knowing this was going to be a long ride. Giving the gelding a quick squeeze with his thighs, he turned toward home.

  SARAH SLOWLY RELAXED against Luke’s broad chest, feeling safe for the first time since the beginning of the war. Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against him, allowing herself to revel in the guilty pleasure she found in being held by him.

  His body was so pleasing; hard and substantial without a hint of softness.

  Luke brushed her temple with his warm lips. “Are you all right? That bastard didn’t touch you, did he?”

  Sarah shook her head, shivering with revulsion. “No, but he would have. I could see it in his eyes.”

  His mouth curved into a smile against her hair. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Out of the frying pan, into the fire’?”

  The horse chose that moment to step in a hole, jarring her against Luke’s lap in a manner that left no doubt what he was talking about. He was huge and hard against her hip, and she melted in response.

  She turned her head so she could look up at him. Tentatively, she reached up and brushed a lock of silky dark hair from his brooding eyes. “Perhaps I want to be burned by your fire.”

  He shook his head. “You told me I disgusted you. That day in the kitchen.”

  “You tried to make the passion between us into something ugly.” S
he was determined to prove how much she wanted him. Him, not just any safe harbor.

  Burying one hand in her hair, Luke pulled her toward him, fastening his mouth upon hers with passionate ferocity. Hot, wet, open-mouthed. It was all Sarah had dreamed it would be.

  Luke tasted of mint and whiskey, of all the dark, dangerous things no good girl was ever supposed to think about.

  He pulled away, his breath coming fast and hard, his broad chest heaving as though he’d run for miles. She suffered from the same affliction. She’d never been kissed like that in her entire life.

  He stared at her, and then slowly ran his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “We should get back. It’s getting late.”

  A flicker of disappointment went through her, but then she nodded and turned back around, relaxing against him once again. A chill breeze started howling down from the mountain, so he swept off his cloak and wrapped it around them both.

  “There’s the barn, through the trees there,” he finally told her quite some time later.

  “Thank goodness,” she whispered, covering a wide yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

  They arrived at the large building, and he helped her dismount. He swung down awkwardly, and again she averted her eyes, wrapping his cloak tightly around her, sensing he didn’t want her to watch him. She wondered why he was so self-conscious. His strength amazed her. He managed so well with his missing limb.

  Luke lit the lantern that hung on a post inside the barn door and then guided the horse into the shadowy interior. The barn was filled with fine-looking horses. Both the animals and the building showed signs of tender care. She wondered at the contrast, having witnessed firsthand the sorry condition of his house.

  He led the gelding to a stall toward the back, unsaddling him with a swift economy of motion. “There’s something I should tell you. My brother and his wife are here. They’re staying the night.”

  She stiffened. “The brother who wrote me the letters?”

  He nodded. “I know how angry you must be with him, but he’s not a bad man. In fact, he’s the one who told me where you were this evening.”