Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 20

  “Why, we’re the brides you sent for.”

  “Just how many brides do you think you get?” Jim’s brother, Luke, asked as he nudged alongside him.

  Completely thunderstruck, Jim stared at the women. “Brides? I didn’t send for brides.”

  The gal who’d quite literally fallen at his feet pinched her lips together in a firm line. The one next to her, who had no more color than a mashed potato, huddled close. The last two exchanged horrified looks as the train started to puff off into the distance.

  “We’re just what you asked for on the bridal order. Sturdy, dependable, plain—”

  It was too outrageous to believe. Jim shook his head. “Ladies, something has gone terribly wrong. I ordered plain, ordinary bridles for my horses—not brides!”

  “I see,” Matilda Craig said. She pivoted a bit, and Jim instinctively reached out to keep her from falling again. The way her shoulders started to shake made his heart lurch.

  “No need to cr—” He jerked away as he realized she wasn’t in need of consolation. Of all things, the woman started to laugh.

  “We should have known Ellis would mess this up,” she said, her voice bobbing up and down with mirth. Jim stared at her intently, hoping she wasn’t sliding into hysteria.

  “What do we do now?” the youngest one huffed.

  “Told you this wouldn’t work out,” Bess said. “Matty, this isn’t funny in the least.”

  “Oh, no!” The gal who was a very pale copy of Matty lost that pretty lilt from a minute ago. “What is to become of us?” She continued to clutch Matilda’s hand and leaned into her, nearly causing both of them to lose balance.

  Jim reached out to brace Matty before the two of them toppled over. In the middle of this whole confusing mess, he wondered how in the world Ellis Stack ever described Matilda as plain. Sunrise gold hair was plaited on top of her head like a crown. It framed wide, expressive blue eyes that would always let a man know precisely how she felt. The feel of soft fabric beneath his hand and the mind-boggling scent of flowery perfume made him all too aware he hadn’t been around anyone half this appealing in ages.

  But he wasn’t about to marry her—or any of her sisters. What was he supposed to do with four females?

  The youngest one scrunched up her freckled nose and repeated, “What do we do?”

  “We’ll just have to make do.” Matilda pulled away from his touch, disengaged from her sister, grabbed two hatboxes, and handed them to the pale one.

  Jim swiped them right back. “Your sister isn’t up to this.”

  In a bizarre tug-of-war, Matilda grabbed hold of them. “Sir, I understand this was all an honest mistake, but you’re not making it any better. Right about now, it would be best if you’d go mind your own business and leave us alone.” One of the lids popped off, and gobs of thin-as-air, lacy stuff fluttered in the air.

  Corrine sat down on one of the trunks and burst into tears.

  As he helped Matilda cram the wedding veil back into the hatbox, she hissed under her breath, “Now look what you did!”

  “Whatever it was, lady, I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.”

  Chapter 2

  We’d best come up with a plan.” Bess gave the town a disparaging look. “Ellis already did that,” Bertie grumbled as she flopped down on a trunk, “and look where it landed us.”

  “In the middle of nowhere, with no one to help us,” Corrie whimpered.

  Matty glanced at the odd collection of men and took their measure in a quick sweep. This lot rated more ragged than any group she’d ever seen. Most desperately needed to be reacquainted with scissors, a razor, and a tub. More than a few weren’t refined sufficiently to keep from scratching like a hound with fleas. Even with all that counted against them, to the man, they’d all removed their hats and grinned. About half of them even boasted a full set of teeth. The minute one took a single step, the entire group trampled forward and formed a complete circle around them.

  “Well.” Matty injected a sunny tone to her voice and folded her hands in front of herself. “It’s good to see so many strong, kind-looking men. My sisters and I seem to need to transfer our goods to the boardinghouse or hotel. Could I trouble a few of you—?”

  “Back off.” Jim Collingswood’s low snarl made the men freeze. “Miss Craig, Lickwind doesn’t have a boardinghouse or hotel.”

  Bertie banged her heels against the trunk and propped her fist on her hips in a most unladylike way. “Isn’t this a fine kettle of fish? Not that I cotton much to the notion of getting hitched, but being stranded without a place to lay our heads or a decent meal—”

  “Hush,” Bess clipped as she lifted her chin. “We’ll simply have to take the next train home.”

  All of the men bellowed in denial.

  Matty opened her reticule and pulled out the last seventeen dollars she owned. “Here. Bertie, give us your money.”

  “I spent it.”

  “It’s at least forty dollars apiece for the tickets.” Corrie’s voice shook as she stated the terrible fact.

  Matty gave Bess a questioning look. Bess’s thin-lipped expression made her heart fall.

  “This isn’t a normal train stop.” Jim Collingswood’s comment carried the flavor of a mortician’s announcement. “Probably won’t stop here for at least another week.”

  At wit’s end and worried about the way Corrie blanched, Matty finally gave into temptation and turned around to invite Mr. Collingswood to keep his tidings to himself … but she forgot about the gravel on the ground. His lightning-fast reflexes saved her from another humiliating fall, but the result wasn’t any more desirable. He’d grabbed and yanked, so she landed face-first into his buckskin shirt.

  “For a man who don’t wan’ a bride, he shore seems to be stakin’ a claim,” one of the men said.

  As several others hooted, Matty tried to summon a scrap of dignity and her balance. The minute she looked up into Jim’s unblinking gaze, her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth.

  “Easy now,” he said in a strangely soothing tone.

  “Whoa, there,” another male voice said from a yard or so away. “Hey, Jim?”

  Matty recovered her bearings enough to twist her head to the side and see who’d spoken. A man whose profile strongly resembled Mr. Collingswood’s—good gracious; strong, handsome men were everywhere!—bent a bit. When he straightened, Matty realized he’d scooped up Corrie. Her twin drooped in his arms like a wilted daisy. He looked compassionate enough … until he curled his arms to hold her a bit closer. Then he looked as stricken as Matty felt.

  “Hey, darlin’, I’m right here to catch you,” a straddle-legged man with a tobacco-stained moustache declared from behind Bess. “Always did favor the fillies with dark manes.”

  Bess served him a withering glare that made him back up a step.

  While a handful of men all argued over who ought to get Bess and Bertie, Matty shook free from her captor and gave in to the very unfeminine urge to exercise a trick the hired hand back home had shown her. She stuck two fingers in her mouth, let out an ear-piercing whistle, then smoothed her skirts to recover her dignity while all of the men gawked at her in utter amazement.

  “This has gotten out of hand. Where is the nearest patch of shade for my sister?”

  “The rough seas,” James Collingswood stated in a curt tone.

  “There’s no need to be mean.” Matty glowered at him.

  “It’s my ranch.” Jim Collingswood clamped hold of her elbow and started to drag her down the street as he ordered over his shoulder, “You men load the women’s gear into my wagon. Luke, do you need to take that one into Doc’s office?”

  “Doc’s gone again. May as well haul her home and get her rested up.”

  Jim stopped by a buckboard and cinched his hands around Matty’s waist then hefted her up onto the seat without so much as a word of explanation. He boosted Bertie into the back as Luke laid Corrie in the wagon bed. Bess had managed to stop off at a pump somewhere
and dampen her hanky. As she draped it over Corrie’s forehead, Jim pawed through the possessions the townsmen hoisted aboard. The lacy parasol he pulled out looked ludicrous in his hands; and when he popped it open, Matty fought back the urge to giggle. None of this was funny in the least, but weariness and worry mingled to rob her of her manners. She started to laugh again.

  As Jim turned to look at her, the rib from the parasol grazed through his hair and combed a furrow that stood at attention. His tawny eyes narrowed warily. “You’re not going hysterical, are you?”

  “No. Oh, not at all,” Matty hastened to assure him. She smothered her levity and focused on Corrie out of concern for her as well as to keep from staring at his wild, parasol-framed hairstyle.

  “Hold this over your sis,” he ordered Bertie.

  If Corrie hadn’t been swooning so regularly in the past few months, Matty would have been far more alarmed. As it was, she fully expected her sister to rouse and feel mortified over all of the fuss, so she tried not to overreact. Clearly, what she needed to do was find someplace safe and cheap for them to stay until they could earn enough to catch a train back home.

  Before she could pose any inquiries, Jim Collingswood swung up onto the seat beside her and put the buckboard in motion. “Sir, what are you doing?”

  “I’m fixin’ to clean up my mess.” The angry glint in his eye made it clear just what—or who—that mess was.

  “Kicked clean outta my own home,” Jim muttered as he pitched hay into a pile that would become his bed.

  “Yeah, and we helped Pa build every last inch of that place,” Luke repeated once again from the adjoining stall.

  Jim stared at the hay and forked over a few more hefty heaps then peevishly jabbed at a lump. “Propriety makes for an itchy bed. If Ma hadn’t drummed respectability into us all those years, we could be sleeping in the study.”

  Luke let out a cross between a snort and a laugh. “Ma would skin your hide if she knew you’d sent for four brides.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t send for brides; I sent for bridles.”

  Luke chortled as he flicked his wrists and the wool blanket fluffed out on the bed of hay. “If it weren’t for that cute one feeling poorly, this would be a hoot and a half.”

  “She’s feeling sickly? I thought only the one in the motherly way was under the weather.”

  Luke leaned across the stall and gave him an entertained look. “I was talking about the motherly one. Who are you so worked up about?”

  “Not who. What. I made a close study of the ledger whilst you carried her up to a bedroom. A buck fifty for a bridle and shipping was fine—a hundred fifty apiece for four women is—”

  Luke whistled. “More ready cash than we can scrape together. You know, maybe this was meant to be. That motherly one isn’t in any shape to stick back on a train.”

  “Don’t even think about it.” Jim waggled his finger menacingly. “We lollygag around on this, and she’ll be too far gone to travel. Spending the whole winter in the stable so’s those gals can take over our house is just plain crazy. We have to come up with a plan.”

  “I’ll concede that point.”

  “So I started thinking, maybe we can just send them back. You heard Matty: Tickets cost forty bucks. We’ll do that and toss in an extra hundred so that brother-in-law won’t have call to shove ’em outta their place this winter. It’ll stretch our budget, but we can manage.”

  “Forty bucks is low-class accommodations. You couldn’t possibly do that to those poor sisters, specially not the”—he patted his washboard belly—“one!”

  “I suppose you have a better idea?”

  “There’s no rush. The next eastbound train won’t stop here for nine days. Until then, you’d best cool your temper and figure on getting some tasty meals for a change.”

  Jim heaved a sigh as he flopped down on his itchy, makeshift bed. He stacked his hands behind his head and stared at the cobwebs adorning the barn’s crossbeam ceiling. “I guess that’s some consolation.”

  “Best meal we’ve eaten in years.”

  “Don’t get used to it, Luke. No use compounding one mistake by making a bunch more.”

  Chapter 3

  Matty sluiced water on her face and sighed with delight. Last night she and her sisters made good use of the tub. After that dreadful five-day train ride, she’d been sure she’d never come clean. They’d acquainted themselves with the kitchen and whipped up chicken and dumplings. While they shared the supper table with the Collingswood brothers, no one had concocted a solution to their quandary.

  The Collingswood brothers revealed their father had died four years ago, and their mother and sister now lived in Chicago. Jim looked at Matty and waggled his fork to punctuate his words. “No woman was made to live out here. Our ma and sis got out alive—two others came and didn’t make it through their first winter.”

  James didn’t ask them any personal questions. That notable omission made it clear he was unwilling to entertain any notion of honoring the mail-order arrangement—mixed up as it was. He held no responsibility for the predicament, and Matty almost felt relieved. She hadn’t been happy about being sent out here to husband hunt … so why did she still feel a twinge of regret that this cowboy didn’t want her?

  He’d answered enough questions for the sisters to learn the Rough Cs Ranch ran cattle; but during the spring and summer, the brothers also captured and tamed wild mustangs. Clearly, they were ambitious men; and from the looks of the buildings and grounds, they were also very hardworking.

  Luke managed to coax a bit of information from Matty and her sisters; but for the most part, he’d avidly eaten every last bit of food on the table.

  Corrie fell asleep over dessert, and Jim Collingswood shot her a worried look. “Doesn’t appear as though that afternoon nap did her much good.”

  “Corrie’s a widow,” Matty said as she rose. She’d rehearsed how to impart the news as delicately as she could, but now that the time was at hand, the words nearly choked her. “She’ll make aunts of us all just before Christmas.”

  Both men stood when Matty rose. The table manners and genteel customs they displayed came as a very pleasant surprise. So did the fact that Luke bent and carefully scooped Corrie into his arms. “I suspected she was in the family way when I caught her at the train stop. I’ll take her back upstairs.”

  As his brother carried Corrie to her bed and Bess followed along to tend her, Jim held Matty back. “And she came out here as a bride?”

  Matty sighed. “My sister Adele’s husband took over our parents’ dairy farm after they passed on two years ago and made life for us unbearable. Corrie came back to live with us a couple of months ago, the day she became a widow. Ellis knew she was in a delicate condition, but it didn’t matter to him in the least.”

  Jim shook his head in disbelief. “I suppose bringing her here was more merciful than leaving her in his care.”

  More merciful … His words echoed in Matty’s mind this morning as she braided her hair. Quietly so she wouldn’t wake Corrie, she slipped into the blue delft-patterned dress she’d made from feed sacks and tiptoed out of the room.

  “How’s Corrie?” Bess whispered in the hall.

  “Still sleeping like a baby.”

  “Good. I just woke Bertie. She was upside-down in the bed and still won’t turn lose of that hatbox of hers. She’s never suffered wearing a bonnet gladly. Do you suppose we’ve finally started taming her into womanhood?”

  “I dearly hope so. Perhaps all of our prayers are finally being answered.”

  Bess shook her head as they went down the stairs. “I’m afraid not. We prayed for godly men to be our husbands. Instead, we’re going to have to make our way amidst the rabble and roughs until we earn enough money to get back home.”

  “Or we could settle here. Ellis will marry us off to whomever he can just to get rid of us. If we make Lickwind our home, at least we can stay together.”

  “I decl
are, Matty, you’re always making the best of a situation. Problem is, I can’t see how we’ll ever manage here on our own for any longer than it’ll take to earn train fare.”

  “We’ll consider it as a challenge. I was thinking last night—” Bess shot her an alarmed look. “Oh, no.”

  “Now listen. It’s a good plan. Only one of us needs to get married. Ellis had no right at all to sell us off as if we were his property. He put us on that train, and he’s keeping the dairy farm.”

  “Adele didn’t look very sad, sending us off,” Bess grumbled as they entered the kitchen. “She and Ellis deserve one another.”

  “I figure they owe us for taking our share of the birthright; and this whole trip was Ellis’s idea, so I don’t feel bad that they’re out the money for our train fares. We need to put together whatever we have left. That’ll be enough seed money to set up a solid business in town.”

  “Town didn’t look any too industrious. It’s no more than a spit in the wind.”

  “Bess!” Matty laughed. “Mama would have a conniption if she ever heard you talk like that.” While Bess humphed, Matty continued. “We could do mending and baking. I’m sure we could make it work.”

  As her sister lit a kerosene lamp, Matty stirred the embers in the four-burner Monitor stove and added another log. “I’ll go milk the cow if you gather the eggs.”

  “You can’t go into the barn. The men are there!”

  “Which is why the cow is tied up by the coop.” Matty grabbed a pail and scooted out the door. She’d managed to cajole one of the hands to find her a heifer that was fresh last night. He’d looked at her as if she was crazy as a loon for making that request, but he’d also been more than eager to please. As it turned out, Western ranches only viewed the cattle as beef on the hoof and ignored the dairy possibilities. Matty resolved to discuss that matter with whichever rancher married her.

  The lavender predawn light allowed her to pick her way across the yard. Matty patted the Rough Cs’ brand on the heifer’s hip. The three wavy, parallel lines with a tilted C riding them were both clever and would be hard to tamper with. It seemed the Collingswood brothers thought of almost everything except a milking stool. One would be nice; but since they didn’t have one, she squatted down and set to work. Leaning into the warm side of the cow, she quickly hit a rhythm and filled the bucket.