Deceiving The Bride (Mail-Order Bride Book 9)

by Stella Clark

  Chuckling, Grace grudgingly nodded. “All right. I won’t be but a moment.”

  She hurried over, pushing the heavy door open. Mr. Andrew Henderson managed both the weekly newspaper as well as the bookshop with his printing press. The crowded space smelled of ink, and every bit of it reminded her of New York.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Henderson. Are you here?” Grace called as she closed the door.

  Four bookshelves welcomed her in. Browsing them, she ran a finger over the spines to see if there was anything new since she had last stopped there. It had been over two months, after all. Grace hardly dared to hope, even as her heart began to beat loudly. Would he have even had the time to get it completed?

  And then she saw it. The Prairie at Sunrise. Grace’s fingers shook as she pulled the recently bound dime novel off the shelf and looked it over in amazement. There weren’t any pictures, but it had a nice brown cover with a silver title. The most indescribable feeling swept over her as she tried to take it in, joyous and thrilling, before she glanced at the bottom.

  “Andrew Henderson” was written there.

  Right where her name should have been. Grace nearly dropped the book. Confusion flooded her senses as she frantically opened the book. She hadn’t stolen his title, had she? Or had he copied her title? But even as she skimmed the carefully typed pages, a lump formed in her chest. Every word was hers. Her characters, her story, everything was hers. Except for the name.

  “What is this?” she cried out. Grace whirled around, desperate for an explanation. Running around the shop, she found him in the back room where he sat at his desk with his account book. “Mr. Henderson! My story!”

  He looked at her over his large glasses, nestled on top of his bulbous nose. Then he nodded. “Yes, thank you for that. Isn’t it nice, seeing it print?”

  She shook her head. “Yes, and—and no. This is—what do you think you’re doing? This is—these are my words, my story. It’s supposed to be mine,” she stammered. Grace blinked hard, trying not to tear up. “I demand an explanation, sir. I came to you in good faith to publish my story.”

  Shrugging, he turned back to his papers and made a notation in his book. As if she wasn’t even worth his time. “And I published it, as you requested.”

  “But you stole it,” Grace groaned. “What were you thinking? You can’t sell what is mine. We had a contract.”

  Shrugging, he turned the page in his book. “You can’t prove it. Besides, you’re a young girl. You shouldn’t be wasting your time on stories. Go back to the city where you belong. Find yourself a man, won’t you? It’s not like anyone would believe a girl wrote that.”

  Grace’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Never in her life had she been treated in such a manner. He had made her disappear; he had discounted her for nothing. She glanced at the book. All of her hard work, and she couldn’t even claim it.

  “I can’t,” she started, but the tears interrupted. Refusing to let him watch her cry, she clutched the book to her chest and stumbled out all blurry-eyed.

  Pushing the front door open with all her might, Grace drew in a deep breath. It should have helped, but it didn’t. The tears came faster then, so quick that she couldn’t wipe them all away though she tried. Trying not to panic, she tried to look for Thomas and the horses through the snowy street. She just wanted to get out of there, far from that bookshop.

  Chapter Ten

  Wade pulled his hat on as he saw Grace step out of the shop. His chest tightened as he nodded to Thomas. He’d kept the man too long. “I should get going,” he interrupted. “We’ll talk back at the mess house. I’ll just …” But he trailed off as he glanced at Grace again. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help himself. Something felt wrong.

  Frowning, he watched as she scrubbed at her eyes. Once, twice, and three times. Wade took a step back towards his horse but then one forward. He hesitated long enough for her to arrive. Thomas grabbed the horses, but Wade shook his head, following after Grace before she could get to her horse. He heard her sniffling.

  “Grace?” Wade asked hesitantly as she covered her mouth to hide a muffled sob. His glaze flickered to the bookstore and back. Then he noticed something in her hands. “What’s going on?”

  “I hate this,” she suddenly cried out, tossing the object into the dirt and snow. A book. Then to his surprise, knowing her passion for the written word, she stomped on it twice. “I hate it, I hate it! Unbelievable!” Then she hid her face again, talking unintelligibly.

  Wade picked up the book, wondering why it bothered her so much. Immediately there was something about it that bothered him. “Isn’t this the title of your book?” he asked her. “Did Mr. Henderson write one like it?” She groaned as he flicked through the pages. A few names stood out to him and something clicked.

  “He stole it,” Grace finally choked out. “It was mine, I swear. I wrote it. But he—he—”

  He’d never known anyone to be so cruel. This was against the law, it was wrong, and to do this to Grace—Wade clamped the book shut with a loud thump. This wouldn’t do. Shaking his head, he grabbed her by the elbow. “We’re going to fix this.”

  “Wade?” Thomas called after him.

  “We’ll be fine,” Wade replied over his shoulder. “Take our purchases home, would you?” He had business to take care of first. Grace did little but tighten her grip on him as he guided them back into the shop. She slowed down, hiccupping, but he picked up their speed.

  It was a quiet shop. Bookshelves, mostly, with the printing press in the back. Wade glanced at Grace, who wiped one cheek before shakily pointing towards a cracked open door in the back. He tugged Grace forward.

  “Who’s there now?” came a disgruntled tone.

  Deciding that a knock would require too much patience, Wade kicked the door and flung the book onto the desk. Immediately, Mr. Henderson stood with his hands in the air. But his gaze quickly dropped as he stared in dismay at his now muddy papers.

  “What is this?” he cried out. “What is the meaning of this?”

  But then the man noticed who was there. First, he glared at Grace. Then he noticed Wade and hesitated. Tugging at his collar, Mr. Henderson glanced between them warily. “Ah, the young Mr. Shelton. To what do I, erm, owe the pleasure?”

  Scoffing, Wade pointed to the book “I’m afraid you’ve made a terrible mistake, Mr. Henderson. You’ve put your name on the wrong book. The last time I checked, it belonged to Miss Landers here.”

  The man sputtered. “Now look here, sir, you don’t know the whole of it.”

  “I don’t care,” Wade scoffed before raising his voice. “And we’re not interested in your excuses. We’ve heard plenty of them before. Now, if you don’t want to be run out of town, I suggest you fix this problem immediately.”

  Mr. Henderson hesitated. “What problem?”

  Stepping forward as he let go of Grace, Wade picked up the book and shoved it into the other man’s chest. “This book was written by the one and only Miss Grace Landers. It was written by no one else, especially not you. Grace is too smart, too clever, and too good for a place like this. She will get published properly by a—by whatever company publishes books. She deserves the best, not this trash.

  “We’re going to fix this problem by taking back every copy you have of her story. Manuscript, prints, everything.”

  “But,” the older man scrambled, “I don’t—that’s so much. It’ll take forever. I’ve already sold two copies today and—”

  Wade shook his head. “And you’ll retrieve those copies, return their money, and apologize for the mistake. You will tell them who wrote the book, and you will pay Grace whatever you received. Tomorrow, you’re going to come to our ranch—I don’t care if you have to walk through the blizzard—and return absolutely everything.”

  “And if I don’t?” Mr. Henderson raised his chin stubbornly like a child.

  Narrowing his gaze, Wade faced the man sternly as though to remind him that not only was he taller, but he
knew the man’s history and their sheriff would be more than happy to make sure the man left town. “Then you’ll never work here again. Do you understand me?”

  He glanced back at Grace, who was hurriedly wiping her splotchy cheeks clean. She had shiny eyes that looked at him, stunned. But she was a little less upset now, and he decided this was the best he could do. Wade turned back to the man. “Well?”

  Mr. Henderson swallowed hard as he realized he was out of options. Glancing down, he nodded. “Yes, sir. Do send my regards to your father.”

  “If I feel like it.” Then Wade offered a bitter smile. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Mr. Henderson. I’m looking forward to it.” With one more glare, he turned guided Grace back out to the street. “Come on,” he grumbled. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She trotted after him, close at his elbow. Glancing back at her, he took a double take before they reached the horses. There was a smile on her face. Between the ruddy cheeks and the sniffling, Grace was smiling. Wade stopped abruptly in the middle of the street. How could he be angry now and she so joyful?

  “What?”

  “What, what?”

  He frowned. “What is that? What are you doing?”

  Grace bit her lip to hide the smile but it didn’t work. If anything, she was smiling wider. “Did you mean it?” she asked after a heartbeat. “What you said in there?”

  “Of course.”

  “About me?” she reminded him.

  Wade shifted uncomfortably. Blinking, he thought back. He had said several things. The book needed to be fixed. Grace deserved better … Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he tried to think of an excuse for confessing feelings he hadn’t known about, but Grace followed it up with that ridiculous grin of hers.

  “It’s all right, you can say you love me.”

  His eyes widened as he took a step back, ready to run. “What?” Wade glanced around incredulously. “What are you talking about? I don’t—that’s … you’re crazy.”

  “Don’t call a girl crazy just because she’s telling the truth.” Grace shook her head with a short sniff. “And don’t deny it just because you want to spite your father. It’s okay, you can admit it. Just say it, Wade. Please? Just say it.” She cleared her face as she took a step forward.

  Shaking his head, Wade stammered as he tried to think. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a foolish notion, after all, and his kind words had been said in the heat of the moment. Now the thought that she expected him to say something so public was just laughable.

  “Fine.” Grace’s smile slipped off and his heart dropped as she turned to leave. His throat turned dry, not wanting to upset her again, not wanting to leave her again. It had bothered him the first time around, and he was finally getting his head on straight. Or so he had thought. “Then that’s fine. I’ll just leave, then. I don’t want to be around you if …”

  But he couldn’t let her go. It was in that moment Wade realized he had to bite the bullet. He’d never liked the saying, but it made sense. There was a sour taste in his mouth as he struggled with his words, so he decided to do something about it. Reaching out, he gripped Grace’s arm and tugged her back to him.

  She spun as the momentum swung her straight into his arms. A thrill ran through his body as she bumped into him with wide eyes. When Grace looked at him, Wade smirked at the chance to surprise her. But that didn’t matter now.

  They’d stood face-to-face before, but they’d never done the one thing he’d been itching to do since that first day. Only now did he recognize that ridiculous itch. With his other arm, he wrapped his hand around her chin and tugged her the final inch so they could kiss.

  Her lips were sweet and salty from her tears. Part of him expected her to resist, but she stood on her tiptoes to press herself against him, her free arm securing his around her waist. Wade had kissed a few girls before but forgot everyone else with Grace. Only when they needed air did he finally pull away.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Wade muttered, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. He couldn’t help but wonder if she felt as light-headed as he did. His eyes glanced around the surrounding street. “You kissed me so publicly that I had best marry you to preserve your honor now.”

  Somehow, her cheeks turned even pinker. But she beamed as she responded, “I wouldn’t accept anything less.”

  Epilogue

  Everyone gathered around the table, eager to get a better look at the freshly printed pile of books. In front of them, Grace beamed as she carefully flipped through the pages. She had already read through them, just to be sure. But the idea of having her book printed still felt surreal.

  “All right, all right.” Wade slapped Thomas’s hand away from the table. “Everyone, back up. You all get a copy. Miles, hand them out, will you? And if anyone doesn’t like it, then you’re fired.”

  The talk in the mess house faded awkwardly as the cowboys glanced at each other to see if he was serious. Grace elbowed him before shaking her head. “You don’t have a single obligation to read this,” she assured the group. “Your only obligation is to be cleaned up and freshly shaven for the wedding tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” Wade raised his eyebrow. “Who’s getting married around here?”

  Grace shrugged as she tossed a book to Thomas. “Whoever will have me, I suppose. Do I have anyone willing to—” But she was cut off as Wade spun her off her feet and finished with a kiss that left her dizzy. Their audience cheered as she straightened, flushed.

  “All right, all right,” came a booming voice. “Boss coming through. I’m expecting a signed book over here. Is there one left for me?” Jeb appeared with a grin of his own as he dusted off his jacket. Leona trailed over as well, already talking to the cook about herbs.

  With a nod, Grace tossed a book to him. “Of course, Mr. Shelton.” He raised his eyebrow. “I mean, Pa.” The word felt strange. But she supposed she might get used to it. A small thrill ran through her body at the thought of being surrounded by so many people who actually liked her. She was so happy she could cry.

  “Enough of that,” Wade chuckled, catching a stray tear. “You’re not going to cry every day now, are you?”

  Grace shook her head. “Of course not. Just when I’m very happy. Or very angry.”

  That made him frown. “Then how am I supposed to be able to tell the difference?”

  She shrugged. “You’re going to be my husband. You should probably sort that out.” Then she turned back to Jeb as he studied them with a proud grin. “Thank you again for helping me get this published, sir, I’ve never been so happy.”

  The older gentleman chuckled. “Don’t you worry; that’s all I wanted. The most important thing is that my son is finally settling down. Somewhat,” he added with a chuckle when Wade gave him a look. “If I hadn’t taken action, who knows where we’d all be? Remember, it’s because of me that we’re all happy here.”

  “Because you assuredly make the world spin.” Leona came over with a small basket Her eyes crinkled up when she turned to her husband. “You’re like a peacock all on display, dear. You had best watch that your feathers don’t poke out someone’s eye. Just congratulate them and move along. Besides, Cook wants to ask you about Christmas supper next week.”

  The older couple turned away as Wade and Grace shared a glance. Silently, they both understood that they were never going to confirm Jeb’s thoughts on his bringing the two of them together. The man didn’t need the additional ego and they didn’t want to start any arguments.

  Still, Grace chuckled and shook her head. “He’s never going to stop, is he?”

  He made a face. “I’ve never known him to do such a thing, I’m afraid.”

  Leaning into him, she sighed as he wrapped his arm around her. The man was warm, and she could hear his heart thudding in his chest. Grace wondered again if she was dreaming. How had all of this happened? She’d come expecting a marriage of convenience, only to wind up a pawn in a father-son game. And yet h
ere she was, a published writer, about to be married.

  “He’s sweet,” Grace murmured. “And he means well. I’m rather fond of him now. However, I don’t want any more of his shenanigans. If he lies to me again, we’re moving to Colorado.”

  She felt his chin rest on the top of her head. It tickled as he said, “Even if it’s about a surprise supper? Or a gift horse? Or about the snap peas in the garden?”

  Trying not to giggle, she nodded slowly. “Even then,” she attempted to sound serious. “If supper is two minutes later then he said—”

  “Then Colorado,” Wade chuckled. “Understood.”

  It was only a joke, and they both knew it. Grace covered Wade’s arms that were wrapped around her, wondering how it was possible to feel this content. Her heart was so full that it felt like it might burst. And she wouldn’t mind; she wanted the moment to last forever.

  But then Grace added, feeling it was necessary, “We’re not going to talk to him about grandchildren. At all.”

  He snorted. “Heavens, no. We’ll let him meet them when they’re adults, and that’s a maybe.”

  Grace grinned and finally looked up at him. Wade raised his eyebrow at her. But she didn’t have anything to say.

  She just wanted to look at him. To look at that soft blond hair framing those dreamy blue eyes. From the first time they had met, she had been attracted to him. That felt like a lifetime ago, after all they’d been through with their flirting and their hardships. As she stood on her tiptoes to steal another kiss, Grace hoped that she had another lifetime to go with Wade Shelton.

  The End