Bartered Bride Romance Collection Read online

  “Bethany,” Penny grumbled from the wagon next to them, “if we were at school, Mrs. Throckmorton would make you do dishes for a week for talking after lights out.”

  Bethany scooted closer to Josh and whispered against his lips, “Don’t ask what Mrs. Throckmorton would do if she caught us kissing.”

  It was the first time his wife had alluded to their closeness. Josh gathered her tight. Finally, could she be falling in love?

  Chapter 7

  Rawhide ranks as the cagiest old coot I’ve ever met,” Bethany groused. Josh stared at her. “You’ve been around Penny too much. You’re starting to sound like her.”

  “Can you deny my assessment? He gave us all a day off, and now he’s marching us twenty-two miles and over the Vermillion and the Black Vermillion, clear to the Big Blue all in one day.”

  She looked down and brushed a smudge off of her skirt and hoped he hadn’t heard the way her voice cracked when she mentioned all three rivers.

  Josh transferred the whip into his left hand and laced his right hand with hers. “You made it across the first with a verse.”

  “Judges 6:23,” she quoted. “ ‘And the Lord said unto him, Peace be unto thee; fear not: thou shalt not die.’ ”

  “So let’s have a verse for the next river. How about Psalm 46:2? ‘Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea—’ ”

  Bethany squawked, “That’s a dreadful choice!”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  “So am I. I shouldn’t have snapped. It’s horribly embarrassing to be such a baby.”

  “You’re not a baby; you’re a sensitive woman for very understandable reasons. I’ll be by your side at each crossing. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” He paused then asked, “What about any other fears? Thunder? Lightning?”

  She glanced off at a band of rapidly gathering clouds. “I’d better not have. That looks like a nasty storm brewing.”

  Rawhide kept the overlanders going, even when it started to rain a bit. Finally, he called a grudging halt.

  Granny Willodene toddled by. She grinned from beneath her umbrella. “Saw me a gopher divin’ into his hole, and two beetles follered right a-hind him. We’re in for a three-day gullywasher. Best you think to make extry fry bread right quick-like.”

  Bethany and Penny took the old woman’s advice to heart. They quickly mixed the batter and huddled under umbrellas as they struggled to light a fire. Bethany finally used four of her beautifully embossed calling cards as kindling. Once the flames started, they worked constantly to keep a fire going long enough to brew coffee, make the bread, fry some side meat, and prepare corn mush.

  Josh got into their wagon and rearranged things. He slid a sheet of waterproof gutta-percha between the ribs of the wagon and the canvas to try to keep the worst of the water from dripping on their heads. Bethany lifted the food in to him. “Josh, some of the families are pitching tents.”

  “Rawhide suggested it for those who can’t spend a couple of days in a wagon. The families have no choice.” His voice dropped several notes. “And I’m not about to spend all of that time sharing you with Papa and Penny in a stinking tent.”

  The possessive quality of his voice pleased her, but she didn’t have time at the moment to analyze just why.

  “Rawhide said we’ll be stuck here due to mud for a day or two after the storm. I’m just as glad the Sawyers have a good tent. Babies have a habit of picking stormy nights to make an appearance, and Daisy is close to term.”

  Bethany steeled herself with a deep breath. “I don’t know precisely what to do, but if you need my help with her …”

  “Granny Willodene and Nettie Harris already offered to assist with the delivery. I have no doubt that I’ll need your help one of these days, but this birthing is covered.”

  Bethany let out a relieved sigh.

  “Hey, you just told me you’re not afraid of anything but water. Did the notion of tending a birth scare you?”

  She bit her lip and shrugged. “I don’t know what is involved, Josh. I’m trying my best to learn how to cook out here and be a wife. I’ll do my best to fill in—you know that by now. You can’t ask more than that.” She fought tears as she turned away and tightened one of the ties holding the bonnet over the wagon’s hooped ribs.

  Long arms came around either side of her and retied the bow. In a carefully modulated voice, Josh said, “I know there have been a lot of adjustments. I’m proud of how well you’re doing.”

  “I’m not doing well at all,” she confessed in a choked tone. “The mush is lumpy and I singed my sleeve when I took the coffee off the fire.”

  He turned her around. “Did you burn yourself?”

  “No, but I’ve ruined this dress.”

  “Dresses mend.” He calmly unbuttoned what was left of her cuff and turned back the sleeve. “Your arm looks a bit tender. A little salve will help. You sit tight while I finish tying everything down, then I’ll get some for you.”

  The wind howled and rain came down in sheets. After eating the lumpy mush and sipping tepid coffee, they decided to bed down for the night. Josh had grouped the trunks and crates together; then Bethany put towels in the dips to even it out as best as she could. Together they spread their feather bed across the not-quite-level heap and exchanged a wry grin.

  “It’s no worse than the rocky spot we slept on last night,” Bethany said.

  Josh slipped his arm around her waist, brushed a stray lock from her cheek, and kissed her. “I’d offer to pitch a tent, but we’d have company as soon as the last stake went in the ground. I relish the notion of being crowded in here with you for a few days.”

  A short while later, Bethany wiggled to find a less uncomfortable position, and Josh grunted. “Sorry. I can’t sleep.”

  “Neither can I.”

  Bethany sat up, curled one leg beneath herself, and yanked his black leather bag onto her lap. Embarrassed by her emotional outburst earlier, she tried to sound composed. “Instead of moaning, why don’t we make good use of our time?”

  By the flickering light of a single candle, Bethany watched as he deftly pulled out each instrument, held it in his strong, capable hands, and identified it. She repeated the names of each item after him: scalpel, clamp, probe, retractor, lancet, tourniquet, burr, bone saw….

  A long while later, as the rain turned to sleet, he opened her trunk and helped her put on a second dress. He donned another shirt. Then they huddled beneath a quilt and talked between the ear-splitting rumbles of thunder.

  During that time, something deep inside Bethany shifted. Josh had fallen asleep with his chest pressed against her back, his arm wrapped about her, and his breath ruffling her hair. Even in his sleep, he managed to settle into one position and stay put, solid as an oak. For the first time ever, she felt like she truly belonged. Ever since Mama and Daddy died, she’d been so very alone. Here, beneath a linseed-coated, double-thick canopy that leaked, in the middle of a sleet storm, she felt safe and secure in her husband’s unyielding arms.

  She’d started out with stars in her eyes and big hopes and plans for a perfect life as a good wife. I was in love with the idea of being in love. She nestled a tiny bit closer to Josh and felt an odd mixture of elation and serenity as she realized, But now I’m in love with you, my dearest Joshua. Whatever battles lie ahead of us, I’ll march by your side and depend on God’s leading so we can make any obstacle crumble just as Joshua in the Bible did to Jericho.

  “Doc! Doc!”

  “What is it?”

  It took a moment for Bethany to realize that the light was a lantern, not lightning. Josh had already turned loose of her and was tucking a quilt back about her.

  “Daisy—she’s needin’ you!” Zach Sawyer shouted at him. “It’s time for the babe to come.”

  Groggily, Bethany sat up.

  “I’ll be right there, Zach,” Josh said as he gently pushed her back down.

  As the
lantern light disappeared, Bethany shoved the quilts off and groped in the dark for his bag. “Can I get you anything?”

  Josh yanked on his boots and muttered under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My lace broke.”

  “Pull on the other.” She hastily lit a candle and fumbled to tie the ragged ends of the leather thong together. “There.”

  A streak of lightning illuminated his smile. “I’m set. You bundle up and go back to sleep, sweetheart. I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

  “I’ll be fine. Do you want some bread? I can heat up more coffee—”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “I’ve got all I need. Pleasant dreams.”

  After Josh scrambled out into the rain, Bethany scooted under the covers, yawned, and smiled sleepily. They’d worked well together tonight. She hadn’t really done much, but he knew she was willing to do whatever would help.

  The first days of their marriage, she’d let herself get swept up in her husband’s romantic ways and their fairy-tale adventure. In truth, that reflected honeymoon thinking. Really, this was a foretaste of what their marriage would be like—burned biscuits, blisters, and bad days all were part and parcel of a normal life. As a doctor, he’d get calls at all hours. She wanted to support him in every way possible—not just because that was what a good wife did, but because she loved him.

  Chapter 8

  Josh looked at Bethany and felt a surge of pride. She was an absolute wreck. Her hair hung in damp straggles and her skirts drooped in soggy clumps around her ankles. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, but she wore an angel’s smile as she cooed and bathed the babe.

  He turned back and spooned into Daisy the small dose of ergot he’d calculated. “You folks have cause to praise the Lord. Zach, your strapping son is as healthy as they come. Mrs. Sawyer, you stay abed and do nothing but feed him.”

  Bethany brought the baby over and tucked him in next to his mama. “He’s got his daddy’s husky build, but he favors you with his blond fuzz. I’ll bring supper as soon as it’s ready. I have some meat biscuits that turn into a rich stew when I boil them.”

  “That’s right kind of you,” Zach beamed, “but the Crawfords already offered tonight’s viands. You folks did more than enough.”

  Josh pulled on his jacket and wrapped Bethany’s cloak about her shoulders. “I’ll check in on you tomorrow. Call if you need anything.” He slipped out of the tent, hurried Bethany back to their wagon, and lifted her inside.

  The birthing hadn’t gone according to plan. Nettie Harris tried to help out, but she sheepishly admitted to suffering from la grippe and scuttled back to her own bed. Spry as Granny Willodene was, by midday, the rains proved too much for her old bones. Bethany had already slipped over to provide some of the savory stew she’d made from those odd meat biscuits, countless pots of coffee, and her own special brand of encouragement. When Granny hobbled away, Bethany volunteered to help. “I can ask Mrs. Green or Idabelle Barnes if you’re uncomfortable.”

  To Josh’s surprise, Bethany turned her head to the side and rasped something about Jericho that a rumble of thunder drowned out. By the time he could hear again, she’d pushed past him and knelt by Daisy’s side. Bethany ended up doing far more than hold Daisy’s hand and brew squaw vine tea to ease the pains; she’d actually assisted him with the difficult delivery. She’d done a fine job, too.

  Partners. Yes, they’d been a true team, working together. He thought to praise her, but the words died on his lips. She’d taken off her cloak and promptly fallen asleep. He pulled off her wet boots and frowned at the way her damp skirts and petticoats stuck to her ankles. Still, it would be a shame to awaken her; and with a few more days of rain and mud ahead, every last garment they owned was bound to get wet. He took off his jacket and outer shirt. His warmth clung to the fabric. He swaddled her feet and calves in it then curled around her and drew up the quilts. Before he fell asleep, his last thought was that God had blessed him far beyond his dreams by giving him such a dear wife.

  “It’s a disaster!” Penny sat on a bench just a few yards from the clothesline Josh had strung between their wagons. Even the sound of the wind luffing the rain-soaked quilts couldn’t muffle her wail.

  The storm had taken a toll on everyone’s nerves and possessions. Though inclined to agree, Bethany pasted on a bright smile. “You said the same thing last week when your hem caught fire while we made the beans, but that handsome Dillon Trier patted it out before you got burned. Looked to me like it was a pretty clever way of you asking him to join us for supper.”

  Penny blushed prettily, but she wasn’t to be dissuaded. “This is a trouble too great to be borne!”

  “Mrs. Throckmorton warned us to be careful about what we prayed for. You always fretted about how dismal your section of the garden grew, but now …” She let her words trail off as she tipped her head toward the soggy sack of flour at Penny’s feet. Scores of tiny green sprouts poked out of it.

  “It’s all my fault. I bought middlings instead of finely milled flour.”

  “You were trying to be a good steward and economize. That’s admirable. It’s not really a disaster. Josh and I have plenty, and we can always stock up on everything once we reach Fort Kearney.”

  “But I can’t accept charity—”

  Bethany jolted and stared at Penny in utter dismay. “How could you possibly say such a terrible thing? You’re my sister. That’s not charity; families are supposed to work together.”

  Penny brushed a wisp of her golden hair back under her sunbonnet. “Thomas Jefferson said, ‘It is in the love of one’s family only that heartfelt happiness is known.’ ”

  Leaning closer, Bethany said, “You know what’s truly astonishing? I’m starting to feel like many of the folks on this train are family. The Cole brothers are like big, bumbling brothers, and Anna Schmitt is the sour-faced aunt who never has a kind word to say. Megan and Emma tend to be watching the children, but they are dear as can be.”

  Just then, Lavinia stepped in a mud puddle. “Daddy, do something! This is horrid! These boots were from Paris!”

  “They’ve got mud in Paris, girl,” Granny Willodene barked. “Stop havin’ such a hissy fit. I swan, you’re useless as antlers on a duck. Shake off the mud and help little Katie hang out the bedding.”

  “I may be muddy, but I’m not a lowly maid!” Lavinia huffed off.

  Bethany turned away and grimaced. “I’m going to have to pray to have a charitable spirit, because I certainly don’t want to claim Lavinia as family!”

  “Good.” Penny tapped her foot with emphasis. “If the Millbergs were part of your family and we’re sisters, that would mean they’d be my relatives, too. I couldn’t bear such a disaster.”

  “See? It put everything in perspective. Now the silly flour doesn’t seem like such a catastrophe.”

  Josh returned from checking on Daisy Sawyer. He set his black leather bag on the wagon seat and playfully nudged Bethany. “I agree. Her Paris boots were no loss. I could have told her my discriminating wife suffered a far greater tragedy when she lost her Italian slippers.”

  Bethany tugged a long strip of leather from her pocket. “Speaking of shoes, Zach Sawyer made this replacement for your boot lace.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, it’s all part of being one big family on the trail,” Penny chirped. “As if we aren’t enough, Bethany is adopting nearly everyone.”

  Josh scowled. “Being friendly is fine, but you’re going to have to draw some lines. There isn’t enough time and energy to spend on everyone.”

  Chapter 9

  Two days after the storm, Rawhide decided the mud wasn’t enough to greatly hamper their progress, so he pushed the train ahead. The Vermillion loomed ahead. Josh watched as Bethany’s face grew pinched and pale. By the time they reached the banks of the twenty-foot-wide river, he knew he had to do something to give her comfort. He stood behind her, commandingly turned her around, and wrapped her in a
tight hold. “I’m here with you.”

  “Did Rawhide make it across?” Her voice shook almost as much as she did.

  Josh stared intently at their guide as he dismounted midstream and held on to the saddle horn. He and his mount swam the rest of the way across. Rawhide had told the men that if he stayed mounted, they’d ford the river; if he had to swim, the storm swelled the river deeper than four feet, and they’d have to raft across.

  “He made it, sweetheart. With God’s help, we will, too.”

  Previous trains used the nearby oaks to fashion rafts. Once Rawhide declared those rafts sound, the party started crossing. Each day, the front wagon dropped to the back of the line. Though their wagon sat midway in the train, Josh decided his wife couldn’t withstand the strain of waiting. He gave her a swift kiss and strode ahead.

  “Fellows, I know my wagon’s not first, but—”

  “Say no more, Doc.” Zach Sawyer slapped him on the shoulder. “You and your missus just hustle right on up here.”

  “Much obliged.” Josh went back to his wife. “I’ve got just the spot for you, my Beth.” He cupped her waist and swung her up into their prairie schooner. “Scoot over.”

  Bethany shimmied over, and Josh took his place beside her. One of the Cole brothers soothed an ox that seemed a bit fractious then led the team until they were at the river’s edge. Men unyoked the team and sent them across while others pushed the wagon aboard the raft. Part of Josh wanted to help the men, but Bethany needed him. He promised himself that once they made it across, he’d help all of the others.

  “Joshua.” Bethany buried her face in his shoulder.

  He slipped an arm under her knees and pulled her onto his lap. “First Samuel 22:23 says, Abide thou with me, fear not: for he that seeketh my life seeketh thy life: but with me thou shalt be in safeguard.’ ” He kissed her brow. “Now you say it.”