Bartered Bride Romance Collection (41 page)

Corrie turned over in her bed yet again, seeking an ever-elusive position of comfort. In recent weeks, her pregnancy had mounded her belly to the point that lying on her stomach was no longer comfortable. But it wasn’t this physical change that disrupted her nights.

For the first time in her life, she slept alone.

From the day of her birth, a stronger person had shared her bed. First, it was her twin, Matty. Whereas Corrie felt intimidated by life, Matty embraced it with delight. Events of the day often penetrated Corrie’s nights, waking her from troubling dreams. Matty had always been able to talk the troubles away with her cheerful common sense.

Then Brian entered their lives. The day he professed his love for her, Corrie felt as if the most impossible of dreams had come true. She’d always feared the day Matty would marry, leaving her to stumble through life alone. Instead, this handsome, smart, and personable young fisherman had chosen Corrie, ensuring she’d never be alone.

Corrie turned in her bed yet again, grabbing the coverlet, which seemed determined to slide onto the floor. Fall had come to Wyoming, bringing cold nights. She tugged the covering firmly over her shoulders and settled onto her side, hoping her memories would carry her back into sleep. The babe within gave a sharp kick, as if to tell Mama that her tossing and turning weren’t helping. Corrie grinned to herself in the darkness. From the moment she’d begun to suspect her pregnancy, the thought of being a mama had delighted her. She just knew this little one would have Brian’s charm and intelligence and her own depth of devotion. Perhaps being a mother would help her find her own place in life. As much as she loved being Brian’s wife and Matty’s sister, she secretly hoped to find an identity all her own.

But that dream belonged to happier days. Just two weeks after Doc Timmons confirmed her impending motherhood, a freak Atlantic storm turned Corrie into a widow. Matty immediately rushed to Corrie’s side and stayed with her night and day. The bank repossessed the cheery little home Brian had worked so hard to provide for his bride, so Corrie moved back to the family farm, back to the bed she and Matty had always shared. Less than two months later, their brother-in-law, Ellis, had announced he was sending them and their other two unmarried sisters, Bess and Bertie, to the wilds of Wyoming to find husbands.

At least for her three sisters, the enforced adventure had worked out well. Bertie loved the freedom of the ranch, spending more time outdoors with the animals than indoors learning how to be the woman her sisters wanted her to be. Bess thrived on the constant work and activity.

And dear Matty. Corrie couldn’t help but sigh over her twin’s happiness. Jim Collingswood certainly wasn’t the kind of husband Corrie would have chosen. Taciturn and sometimes downright grumpy—when Matty was around, the man turned to butter. One of her ever-present smiles softened him up for hours afterward.

But now Corrie was on her own for the first time ever. Yes, she had a roof over her head and good food to eat, but she couldn’t depend on Jim and Matty’s generosity forever. In a mere four months, the babe would be born, which would result in an endless list of needs to be met for many years to come. Corrie simply had to find a way to begin providing for herself and the little one. Marrying again might be the easy solution for some, but the mere thought gave Corrie shivers. She’d given her heart to Brian, and he’d taken it with him when he died. Some of the men hereabouts—that sleazy Clyde Kincaid for one—would quite happily accept a loveless marriage just to get a woman. The mere memory of his smell turned her stomach.

She shifted to her other side, untangling her flannel nightdress from around her legs. Ever since Matty’s marriage two weeks ago, Corrie had spent night after night like this, unable to get comfortable, unable to come up with a solution for her own future. Useless as it was, she fervently wished she could set the calendar back six months and keep it there.

Slumber eventually claimed her, only to be nudged aside by faint daybreak. It took her a moment to realize she’d overslept again. She knew her sisters would be understanding, but she hated not pulling her own weight. If milking were her duty, the cow would be bellowing in discomfort by now. With a groan, she pulled herself from her bed. Her black dress lay draped across a nearby chair, frequent washings having dulled it to a muddy gray. She hated the thought of putting it on again. Though cut generously, it no longer fit properly. Besides, she’d been wearing it almost every day. Part of her longed for a more cheerful color, even while her conscience accused her of disloyalty. The love she and Brian had shared deserved at least a full year of mourning.

She firmly turned her thoughts away from the sadness. She’d never stop loving her husband, but one thing she’d learned in the past four months—if she let the grief dominate her thoughts upon waking, the entire day would be shrouded.

She pulled her fingers through the braid that she had plaited in her hair for sleep. Then she combed her hair smooth. With the speed of much practice, she rebraided it and wound the braid into a simple bun at the back of her head, not letting herself dwell on the memory of how Brian had loved to let her hair sift through his fingers. She carefully pinned her mourning brooch in place. The feel of its weight on her dress brought a fragment of comfort. Though she could no longer embrace Brian himself, this brooch made her feel as though he were still near. As she opened her bedroom door, the scent of coffee lured her downstairs.

As she expected, Matty stood at the stove, a steaming pail of milk on the counter beside her and a basket of eggs near the sink.

“You’ve been busy, Matty.”

“Good morning.” Matty’s usual cheerful smile looked softer these days, even as her eyes narrowed with intense observation. “You look pale, Corrie. Are you okay?”

Corrie shrugged off her twin’s concern. “I’m okay. Just slow waking up this morning, I guess.”

Matty crossed the kitchen to put a hand on each of Corrie’s arms as she continued her inspection, looking intently into Corrie’s eyes. The twins had few secrets from one another; those that Corrie tried to keep, Matty could often discern with a mere look. But this time, Corrie refused to let her grief shadow Matty’s fresh happiness.

Matty still saw more than Corrie wanted her to. “It’s okay, little sister. I’m not going to pry. I just worry about you. You have more than yourself to take care of, remember?” She patted the as-yet-small bulge of Corrie’s abdomen affectionately.

Though she wouldn’t have appreciated anyone else touching her so intimately, Corrie cherished Matty’s hands on her. They soothed, and she liked to think they pleased the baby, too. She wanted her little one to bask in Matty’s abundant love even before birth. Matty moved her hands back to Corrie’s shoulders. “Promise me you’ll try to nap after lunch, okay?”

Corrie favored her with a small nod. “I’ll try.” She let herself relax in Matty’s embrace for a moment, then she moved toward the counter. “Thanks for gathering the eggs.”

Matty grinned. “That wasn’t me. I think Luke must have done it while Jim was milking Betty.”

Corrie exaggerated her gasp of surprise. “The grumpy cowboy actually did wimmen’s work? Marriage must be making him soft.”

Matty’s face took on a pink tinge. “He’d be terribly embarrassed if he knew I told you. Please don’t tell the other two.”

“As long as you don’t let on that I didn’t do my chores, either,” Corrie promised with a wink. “Perhaps I should stir up a batch of Mama’s coffee cake as a thank-you.”

“I’ve no doubt they’d leave nothing but crumbs,” Matty assured her with a laugh. “How you do it, I don’t know. I use the same recipes you use, but my baking turns out like bricks while yours is as light as anything Mama used to make.”

This time Corrie’s cheeks warmed. She would never say so out loud for fear of sounding boastful, but she knew she’d inherited her mama’s touch with baked goods. Baking always made her feel connected to the mother she still missed, especially now that she was in a motherly way herself. She continued cleaning eggs in silence, wiping each shell carefully with a damp cloth then setting the cleaned eggs in a cloth-lined basket. The chickens Matty had talked Jim into buying were obviously settling in well. Every few days, egg production increased. Thankfully, with cooler weather coming on, they’d be able to keep the eggs for more than a day. Still, they’d need to think of ways to use the bounty. It would be a sin to have to feed the eggs to the pigs.

Then as she stirred ingredients together for the coffee cake, an idea began to form. Neighboring ranchers often dropped by, much to Jim’s disgust. With the only three unmarried women for miles living at the Rough Cs, it wasn’t hard to figure out what drew the male visitors. Corrie had noticed the way the men inhaled the home-baked goods. What if she made extra bread and cookies to sell to them? It seemed inhospitable to think about luring money out of guests at their table, but circumstances gave her some leeway, she felt sure. She wasn’t at all interested in being courted, and neither was Bess, as near as she could tell. Bertie was just plain too young. So, if the men persisted in coming, why not turn the visits into something profitable? She’d have to start out using the supplies the Collingswood brothers had already purchased; but if her business did well, she’d be able to repay them.

Jim and Luke’s response to her coffee cake provided the perfect opening for her to mention her thoughts. “I can’t remember the last time I had a treat like this for breakfast,” Jim pronounced, stabbing his third piece from the platter.

Luke snorted. “Perhaps the cinnamon rolls from two days ago? As I recall, you ate four for breakfast, two at coffee time, and stole the last one at lunch. Marriage is making your memory go.”

Corrie loved to watch the men banter. They looked much alike, with their hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and tall frames. Yet, while Jim tended to be gruff, Luke had a gentle way about him. Solid affection lay beneath their frequently barbed comments to one another.

“And who was it that grabbed the last biscuit off my fork just last night?” Jim inquired. “I can’t believe my younger brother would steal food from my very mouth.”

“Sometimes it’s the only way to get my fair share,” Luke retorted.

As the laughter around the table faded, Corrie voiced her thoughts. “I had an idea while I was making the coffee cake this morning. I’m thinking I might turn the baking into a business, if you men don’t object.” She gave Luke and Jim each a glance but knew it was Matty she’d have to convince. “I could sell bread and cookies to the neighbors who come calling. Once I have a bit of profit, I’d pay you back for the supplies I’ve used.”

Jim nodded. “Not a bad idea, Corrie. Might as well get some use out of these louts who seem to have nothing better to do than gawk at pretty women.”

Bess also wore an encouraging expression. “That is a good idea. You have a real touch with baked goods. I’m sure the men hereabouts would pay well for whatever you could make. Just be sure you charge a fair price for what you do. You do tend to undervalue yourself.”

Corrie warmed from the unexpected support, particularly in light of the matching expressions on the faces of Luke and Matty. She couldn’t address Luke directly, so she made her appeal to Matty. “You know I love to bake, Matty. It wouldn’t be hard. I’d feel good to be doing something practical. I’m going to need to be able to support the babe and myself eventually anyway.”

The sound that came from Luke’s throat sounded like a cross between a growl and the beginning of speech. But Matty beat him to it. “There’s plenty of time to worry about supporting yourself after we get that little one safely here. In the meantime, you mustn’t overdo. There’s nothing more important than keeping yourself and that baby well.”

“But I do feel well,” Corrie protested. “I’d feel even better if I could do this. You have the cow and the chickens to look after. Bess has the garden.”

She saw the softening in Luke’s eyes before Matty’s, but slowly Matty relented as well. “If Jim and Luke don’t mind you using the supplies, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. But you have to promise me you’ll spend at least an hour per day resting.”

At that moment, Corrie would have promised anything. For the first time since Brian’s death, she felt as if she were no longer just drifting on a tumultuous ocean of circumstances. Might the day come when she’d actually have dreams again?

Chapter 2

T
he first day of her venture, Corrie made four loaves of bread. She knew her plan would succeed only if she could show Matty it wouldn’t require too much work. The next day, she found some dried apples in the pantry and, after cooking them, turned them into cookies, which filled the house with their spicy scent. She made sure a full dozen were available for Jim and Luke’s afternoon coffee time, and both pronounced them better than the coffee cake.

Just as she expected, Clyde Kincaid, Josiah Temple, and Amos Freeling showed up in the late afternoon. None of them seemed to want to visit with any sister in particular, much to her relief, but all were willing to consume more than their fair share of the cookies. Rather than hide in her room as she often did during these visits, she forced herself to stay and make her business pitch. She waited for yet one more fulsome compliment on the goodies then took a deep breath. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Temple, if you’d like to take some home with you, I’m selling them for ten cents a dozen. I also have bread for sale if you like.”