Bartered Bride Romance Collection Read online

  Instead of feeling embarrassed, Bethany felt a surge of relief. “Yes. I don’t know what to do.”

  Granny stared up at the stars for a few minutes then asked, “So what do you think the trouble is?”

  “I don’t know what the problem is. Josh is mad, and he won’t talk to me.”

  “Men are a closed-mouth breed, child. Best you learn that straight off. He ain’t said nothing a-tall?”

  “He’s weary, Granny. I’ve tried to make allowances for that, but he’s gotten snappish over silly things like me promising to make custard for Papa without asking him. Tonight he told me”—she swallowed hard and whispered—“he told me he wants me. I’ve been his wife completely, so that can’t be the problem. I just don’t understand.”

  Granny nodded and hummed sagely. “You sure you wanna listen to an old woman whose words have to cut so’s the hurt will heal?”

  “It can’t hurt any more than knowing something is wrong.”

  “Well then, put your hand in mine.” As soon as their hands joined, Granny prayed, “Lord, You’re the Source of wisdom and love. We’d be grateful to You for an extry measure of both tonight. Amen.”

  “Thank you, Granny. I don’t have a mother or a mother-in-law to go to, and Penny—” She spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

  “Good thing you didn’t go to her. I’m ’bout to speak some truths, ‘cuz you’ve asked.” She looked Bethany straight in the eye. “It’s time you put being a wife first.”

  Stunned, Bethany stared at her.

  “Your man loves you. He protects you, provides for you, and treats you tenderly. Is it any wonder he wants the same commitment and consideration?”

  “I do his laundry and keep the wagon neat and cook his favorite things. Mrs. Throckmorton always taught us the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, so I’ve tried hard to—”

  “You’re not getting the point.” Granny leaned closer. “ ’Member that sign on the rear of your wagon on the day we left Indy?”

  “Tied the knot and un-afray-ed?”

  “Well, darlin’, he tied the knot, but you’re at loose ends. He wants to hold fast to you, to be complete with you. The Good Book says a man shall leave, and the woman should cleave. Instead of cleaving to him and pulling the knot tight and secure, you keep snagging. You’ve lassoed his sis and pa into your lives, and the poor man is desperate for you to treat him like he’s all you need to fill your heart. Instead of showing him your full loyalty and respect, you treat him like he’s no more important than his kin. Betcha he’s got it in his mind that you wed him to stick with his sister instead of because he captured your heart.”

  Granny’s words triggered memories. God made us partners … supposed to dine alone … I’m not about to spend all of that time sharing you with Papa and Penny. Josh’s words flooded back, and a terrible realization dawned. He was telling me that all along!

  “Oh, Granny,” she cried, “what have I done?”

  “It ain’t what you’ve done—it’s what you’re gonna do that matters. You love him, don’t you?”

  “With all my heart!”

  “Figured as much. Time for you to talk turkey with your man. Time to tell him straight out that you love him. Then you’re gonna have to show your devotion to him by putting everyone else a sad second. You got a big heart and wanna draw everybody in. When he tied the knot, he cut the strings to everyone else. What you need to do is put your man first. Let him know he’s special, then all the rest’ll fall into place.”

  Bethany nodded somberly.

  “Best we get back and bed down. Tomorra’s gonna come all too soon.” They walked back to the wagons, and before they parted, Bethany gave Granny Willodene a hug. “I’ll be prayin’ for you, girl. Commit your marriage to the Lord, and it’ll all come out right.”

  Bethany crept under the wagon, drew the quilts over herself, and snuggled close to Josh. Her chest ached with the sick feeling that she’d failed her husband so miserably. How he must have hurt to have finally spoken to her as he had tonight!

  Even in his sleep, Josh rolled over and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the beat of his heart, all the while praying the Lord would reveal to her how to be the wife Josh needed.

  Josh crawled from beneath the wagon, yawned, and stretched. Somehow, he’d slept through the rifle shot to start the day.

  “Good morning.” Bethany brushed a kiss on his stubbly cheek and pressed a cup of hot coffee in his hands. “Breakfast is ready.”

  Papa plopped down in a chair and got an indignant look. “Where’s my oatmeal? We had flapjacks yesterday.”

  “Josh likes flapjacks,” Bethany stated as she put a small jug of molasses on the table.

  Though everything else seemed the same, Josh sensed a difference in his wife. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Last night he’d been sharp with her and stopped before he lost his temper. They needed to talk though. He’d let things get out of hand.

  “Megan just finished reading Malaeska, so I thought we could walk with her and Emma today and discuss the book,” Penny said as she cut her food.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be walking with Josh today.”

  Josh startled a bit at his wife’s announcement.

  “Marching alongside the oxen in this sand is no picnic,” Papa announced. “You’ll get gritty.”

  Bethany merely shrugged as if it didn’t matter. Later, as she ambled at his side, she still ignored the unpleasantness of the terrain. “Josh, I need to apologize.” He glanced at her.

  She slipped her hand into his and threaded their fingers into a weave she tightened with a squeeze. Then she turned her hand. “My wedding ring isn’t shiny anymore.”

  “It can be polished.”

  “Our marriage isn’t shiny anymore either, and it’s my fault. I didn’t grow up in a family.”

  “And you married me to be part of a family.” Every word fell like lead bullets. “Yes. No. Oh, Josh. I’ve done it all wrong.” She let out a ragged sigh. “Do you regret marrying me?”

  “Never! I worry that you regret marrying me. Josh, we scarcely knew each other, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. You’ve grown in my heart until you’ve filled it completely.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t come across that way at all. You’ve roped my family and half of this wagon train into our lives.”

  “Only because I felt so secure that my heart grew and I felt free to reach out. Now, though, I know I was wrong. My allegiance to you should have been the priority, and I ought to have made it clear that you rate above any other relationship.”

  “Even Penny and Papa?”

  “Why do you even ask?”

  He felt a pang at the confession, but it was time to settle the matter once and for all. “You’re always asking what they want. You even list them before me.” He kicked the sand with the toe of his boot and quoted the words he’d so often heard her say, “Papa and Penny and you.”

  “Josh, that wasn’t what I meant. I was saving the best for last!”

  The surprised hurt in her tone and the explanation acted as a salve to his wounded soul.

  “It’s not just your fault,” he said. “I’ve been fostering the hurt instead of discussing it with you. I let my pride hold me back, and it’s put distance between us.”

  She turned loose of his hand and wound her arm about his waist. He curled his arm around her shoulders and held her close. “I do love you,” she said tearfully. “More than I ever thought possible.”

  “Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. I love you, too, Bethy-mine.”

  “Granny Willodene once told me to find happiness in the ordinary because it makes for a pleasant life and a serene heart. I’m thinking that’s true of a marriage, as well.”

  “You’ll never be ordinary,” he chuckled. “But I’ve already found considerable happiness in you. Ecclesiastes 9:9 says, ‘Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest.’ I think we’ve both
been concentrating more on the future and our destination instead of enjoying each day as the Lord gives it to us.”

  “So we need to take pleasure wherever we are … even if it’s a gritty, dry stretch.”

  “With the love God gives us, it’s an oasis.”

  Rawhide rode up. “Keep a-goin’, folks. We’ll hit Ash Hollow tomorrow. Fresh water and trees.”

  Bethany stopped and wrapped her other arm around Josh and hugged him tight. “Our oasis!”

  Ash Hollow was the first steep grade they took. Men tied logs to the backs of the wagons to slow their descent. They camped for two days among the first trees they’d seen in over one hundred miles and relished the first fresh water they’d had in weeks.

  Josh sat by his wife and smiled. She’d curled her foot up beneath her, and she hummed as she stirred something in a big bowl. “What do you have there?”

  She held it up. “Have a taste.”

  He swiped his finger through the batter and licked the sweetness off. “Mmm. Apple something.”

  “Apple spice cake.”

  “Looks like enough batter to float a boat.”

  Bethany smiled. “Apple is your favorite, so I wanted enough for you, then I thought to make one for Granny Willodene as a thanks for her wisdom. Penny’s going to sugar glaze all of them if she can have one to share while the girls discuss their books.”

  “Do we have that many pie pans?”

  “No.” She giggled. “So I’m baking one for the Cole brothers since they’re lending me two pans.”

  After a two-day rest in Ash Hollow, the train continued. A few men managed to bag some antelope. The women followed the recipe for roast saddle of venison in Bethany’s cookbook. Penny made mashed potatoes with Edward’s dried flakes, Bert made biscuits by the score, and nearly everyone else contributed dishes for a big feast. In the midst of all of the activity, Granny Willodene wandered toward a chair and swiped something from Lavinia’s hands. “What is this?”

  “None of your business!”

  Granny turned the book over and read aloud, “Malaeska.”

  “I wondered to whom my book was passed,” Bethany said.

  “Well, I’m gonna hang on to this until Lavinia and her mama finish washin’ the supper dishes,” Granny announced. “Everyone else has worked for the meal. I’m sure they want to do their fair share.”

  Bethany thought the day had been surprising enough, but as the Millberg women washed the dishes, Buck and Bert Cole shuffled up. “Doc. Mrs. Rogers. Would you be willing to loan that dime novel to us?”

  Josh raised his brow at Bethany, read her expression, and managed to sound completely unfazed. “Just as soon as Lavinia is done with it.”

  “Hope she reads faster than she does dishes,” Bert grumbled.

  “We have a long time on the trail. I promise you’ll get to read it,” Bethany said as she slipped her hand into Josh’s.

  Two days later during lunch, Lavinia returned the book, and Bethany passed it on to Buck as the wagon train started its afternoon travel. About an hour later, a huge mound of rock with a breathtaking spire came into view.

  “Chimney Rock!” someone shouted.

  “One-third of the way there,” Papa declared.

  “Well, what do you think?” Josh asked.

  Bethany studied it. “It’s certainly a magnificent thing. I can see why they call it Chimney Rock. It’s aptly named.”

  “Are you longing for a chimney of your own?” Papa asked.

  Bethany shook her head and smiled. “My hearth is an open fire. I’m content to walk toward the sunset and sleep beneath a canopy of stars, because God gave my heart a home in a green wedding wagon with the man I love.”

  FROM HALTER TO ALTAR

  by Cathy Marie Hake

  Prologue

  Littleton, Rhode Island—1868

  Barney, anything interesting come in?”

  “Ah-yuh. I posted them yonder.” The young man jabbed his thumb at the wall.

  Ellis Stack scratched his side and sauntered over to the collection of scraps of paper stuck on various nails lining the far wall. Squinting, he moved his thin lips as he sounded out each word. The middle post caught his attention.

  L. S. STOCKS

  BRIDLE ORDER: STURDY, DEPENDABLE, ABLE TO HANDLE THE STRESS OF HEAVY LABOR. PLAIN ONES ONLY. WILLING TO PAY FAIR PRICE. MANY NEEDED. CONTACT: JAMES COLLINGSWOOD, LICKWIND, DAKOTA TERRITORY

  His pale face lit up with glee. “Send a reply straight off!” Ellis scrawled some words on a paper, crossed out as many as he could to save money, then shoved it at the telegraph operator. “ ’Bout time things went my way. Let me know as soon as you get a response.”

  As he turned to leave, he heard Barney’s twitchy index finger hitting the telegraph key. Every single dot and dash sounded like cash falling into his pocket.

  COLLINGSWOOD,

  REGARDING ORDER: FOUR READY TO SHIP. SUITED TO SPECIFICATIONS, WILL SERVE WELL. ONE FIFTY, PLUS SHIPPING, COD.

  E. STACK

  The next morning, Barney tracked Ellis down at the mercantile and handed him a folded slip. Ellis quickly opened the note.

  MR. STACK,

  AGREE TO PRICE. SEND WHAT YOU HAVE. AS MORE ARE FINISHED, SHIP AS WELL.

  JAMES COLLINGSWOOD

  Ellis smiled. The four headaches he’d been suffering were about to end.

  Chapter 1

  Matilda Craig stepped down from the Union Pacific train and sighed in relief. She’d had enough of the dust and smoke to last her a lifetime. Ellis hadn’t told them they were coming to the western edge of the Dakota Territory. She’d listened to the man behind her call the place they were stopping by an Indian name … Wyoming. The name paired with the train’s endless chug—Why am I roaming? Why am I roaming?

  Small pebbles rolled beneath her black high-top boots, and she tried valiantly to keep her balance, but her effort was in vain. Both legs slid forward, and she made a very unladylike oomph! as she landed in a sea of ruffled cotton petticoats. The horsehair bustle she’d hoped would make her appealing to her intended padded Matty’s landing, but nothing would salvage her bruised pride.

  “Here, miss.” A mountain of a man plucked her from the ground and set her on her feet as if she weighed no more than a pail of milk. Concern lined his craggy, tan face as glinting hazel eyes scanned her. “Are you all right?”

  “Nothing damaged but my pride,” she confessed. “Thank you.”

  His large hand continued to cup her shoulder in a proprietary, protective manner. “The town hasn’t put in a boardwalk yet. After the rocking of the train, you’ll be a mite unsteady.”

  “I noticed.” Matilda couldn’t resist smiling at him. He’d been an utter gentleman—even if he wore fringed buckskin like a rough saddle tramp, and a thin veil of trail dust covered unruly waves of dark brown hair. She probably looked no better after five days on a train.

  “Matty!”

  Matilda turned at the sound of her twin’s voice. Mountain Man kept hold of her, and she wasn’t sure whether to shake him off or cling for dear life. The knucklehead who put this gravel at the train stop obviously never wore heels. The last thing Matty wanted to do was decorate the ground again. In the past two minutes, a full dozen men appeared and gaped at her. Bouncing on her bustle again simply wouldn’t do.

  “Is this it? Are we really here?”

  Matty tilted her face up to the buckskinned behemoth. “This is Lickwind, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He shifted one hand to brace her elbow and reached out to help Corrine descend the slippery metal steps. “Careful.”

  “Thank you ever so much,” Corrine murmured in her Sunday singing voice. Though always sweet and painfully shy, she had a way of adding a lilt when she sang or found herself near a handsome man.

  Matilda felt an unaccountable spurt of irritation. She’d found him first. Not that it meant anything. She wasn’t going to get to choose her man, and neither would any of her sisters. Besides, Corrie hadn’t
done it on purpose; and she, more than any of them, needed folks to treat her gently.

  With an air of expectation, Matty glanced at the rapidly growing collection of men who formed an arc around them. James Collingswood should step forward any minute now. He’d settle them in a boardinghouse until they courted a bit with their intended grooms … but if she could choose, Matty wouldn’t mind a man like this one.

  By the time pretty, dark-haired Bess descended, the men hurriedly started to preen. Hasty hands smoothed rowdy beards, hats came off, shirts were crammed into britches, and shoulders suddenly squared. By contrast, the mountain man calmly reached up to take four hatboxes, three valises, and a burlap bag and lugged two large steamer trunks from the disgruntled purser. Bess’s beloved wooden hope chest came last, and her rescuer handled it with special care.

  He set everything by Matty and her sisters then shot the cowboys and horsemen an amused look. A smile split his tanned face, and he murmured under his breath, “Ladies, I ought to apologize for them. It’s been years since Lickwind boasted such a fine display of femininity. You must all feel like the only apple pie at a church picnic!”

  His words broke their tension. They still stood in a close knot. Matty threaded her fingers with Corrine’s to give her a bit of much-needed reassurance. “You’ve already been so kind. Could I trouble you to please introduce us to Mr. Collingswood?”

  “I’m Jim Collingswood.” He gave her a surprised look.

  “Imagine that! Well, Mr. Collingswood.” Matty tried to give him a composed look, even though she really felt like her insides were skipping rope. “We’re the Craig sisters. I’m Matilda. This is my twin, Corrine, that’s Bess, and Bertie is at the end. I have the papers for you in my valise.”

  “What papers?”

  “To finalize the arrangements.”

  His brows knit. “What arrangements, Miss Craig?”