Dating Two Dragons (68 page)

“That is impossible,” he said bluntly.

“I know, but it is true,” she vowed.

“Do you believe in the power of love?” he asked her, again forcing her to look at him as he spoke.

“Yes, in the power of love and music,” she said, speaking the truest words she had ever spoken.

“Then let us have a lifetime filled with both,” he said as he lowered his head to kiss her and sealing the bond between them.

- The End –

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The Gambler’s Bride

CHAPTER ONE
The Suitor Doesn’t Suit Her

Annabel Revere had everything she thought she could ever want. She was eighteen years old, with long auburn curls, a pink porcelain-smooth complexion and catlike blue eyes that were usually filled with slightly naughty mirth. As a wealthy girl from Boston, Massachusetts, she was well-bred, well-educated and well-off. Although she was happy with her life, her parents felt the need for her to be married to a wealthy suitor as soon as possible.

One of the things about money was that, even if a person came to be rich, they would only remain rich as long as the profits continued to come in. Annabel’s father was older now, planning to retire, and a recent strike at his factory had left his company’s finances lower than anticipated for the year. Annabel was aware of this, but being a girl who was much more attuned to parties than to business, she did not understand the ramifications of a personal financial crisis such as the one her father was now dealing with.

“Mother, I would like to buy a new dress for the ball next Saturday,” she said, striding into the living room where her father read the newspaper and her mother was writing a letter.

Her mother set down her pen and looked at Annabel’s father.

Mr. Revere lowered his newspaper and looked into the eyes of his daughter. He was embarrassed and sad to upset his daughter. “I’m afraid that we cannot make any more purchases like that, my dear… Times being what they are, we need to keep a close watch on everything we buy from here on out.”

Annabel watched her parents, confused and a little irritated. She was far too used to getting whatever she wanted. “But I need to have a new dress at the ball! All of my friends will be there. Mother…”

Her mother sighed a little bit and shook her head at Annabel. “I’m sorry, Anna. You can wear your red dress to the ball. It is so pretty and you always look beautiful in it.”

“I’ve had that red dress for ages,” Annabel complained. “I want something new. You two are always talking about how you want me to get married. Well, how am I going to find a beau if I only ever go out to parties in- in old rags?”

She started crying, not because she was actually feeling sad enough to cry but because she knew that crying often worked in getting her what she wanted.

Her father rose to console her, giving her a light hug and patting her back gently. Her mother, on the other hand, was onto her theatrics. “There shan’t be any danger of you not finding a husband,” she said calmly. “At this very moment, I am writing a letter to a Mister George Hughes. He works with the Railroad.” She said the last bit with her blue eyes all lit up as though she had just admitted that Mister George Hughes could make rabbits disappear and walk on water, too.

Annabel furrowed her red brows together. Her face had become rather red as well. “I do not want to marry some stuffy Railroad tycoon,” she declared. “Why- Why he is nearly fifty years old!”

“Almost fifty years old, but very successful,” her father said, trying his best to appease her. Annabel was his little angel and it was due to his attempts to pacify her over the years that she had become so spoiled.

Her mother looked at her, becoming cross. “Annie, please,” she said. “This is for your own good, and your family’s. You will see in time that marriages can work out well when the parents carefully select the spouses. It was how your father and I came to know one another.” She picked up her pen and continued to write to that detestable old man, as though that was the end of the discussion.

Annabel stamped her little foot against the floor. “This is not for my own good! This is all for you and Daddy, and I hate it.” With that, she stormed from the room. She was no longer so concerned about which dress she might wear to the ball that weekend. The more pressing concern was protecting herself from a loveless marriage to a man who was old enough to be her father!

She dressed herself up in a modest, dark blue dress, tightening her bodice to the best of her ability. She was not used to tightening it herself – her mother usually helped her – but she did not want her mother’s help. Nor did she want her mother prying into her affairs and finding out where she was going.

Once she was dressed to go out, she left the house and got into a carriage. She rode to the nearest mail order bride office, blushing as she thought about what she was planning. Upon entering the office, she went up to the counter and dictated an advertisement, placing herself up for matrimony.

If she married a stranger, she wanted it to at least be a stranger she had chosen! Anyone who responded to her advertisement had to be better than that awful old Mister Hughes.

Miss Annabel Revere is eighteen years old and hoping to find the husband of her dreams
, her advertisement said. She was advised to describe the suitor she looking for in that way, because it served to butter up the men who were reading about her, and make them feel as though they might be filling a hole in her sweet young heart. She had wanted the ad to say,
hoping to find someone to take her away from her wretched parents
… But that wording was frowned upon.

As soon as the advertisement was written out to her liking, she paid the man behind the counter who had assisted her and went back out to find a carriage to take her home.

Jasper Daniels sat at a poker table amidst a cloud of cigarette smoke. Each time he downed his glass of whisky, a barkeep came and refilled it. He looked down at his hand of cards. A royal flush. He would not be losing tonight. He seldom lost at poker, which was why he played it so often with his friends in this bar. His reputation was that of a young man who thought he was better than everyone. He was also known for never shying away from a bet. Why should he, if he always won?

“Your move,” his friend Billy said. “I ain’t sitting here all night to watch you smirk at your cards.”

“All right, here’s my move,” Jasper said cockily, laying out his royal flush for all around the table to see. “’Fraid I’m not going to stop smirking tonight, Bill.”

Billy threw his cards down on the table, cursing loudly and clearly beaten. Everyone dropped their money into the pile and Jasper eagerly swept it all toward himself with his long arms. “Better luck next time, boys.”

Clayton looked at him and slowly shook his head. He was biting onto a toothpick that was little more than a splinter at this point. “You wouldn’t be so smug if you were up against a bet you couldn’t win,” he said in his slow, Western drawl.

“There’s no such thing as a bet I can’t win,” Jasper said, stuffing his wallet and pockets with the bills and valuables that he had won off the men. The very thought was ludicrous to him. He had been betting – and winning – against his cronies in this bar for years now.

One of the barmaids came by the table to refill his whisky. With one arm, he pulled her close to him. “Tell me, gorgeous, do you think I can lose?”

She smirked at him, blushing as though she was not the constant target of drunken flirtations. Most of the drunken flirtations even came directly from Jasper, but he could not keep the girls in that bar straight.

“All right,” Clayton said. “I have an idea that will put that theory of yours to the test.” He pulled a newspaper from his pocket and laid it flat out on the table over the men’s poker cards. He turned the pages until he found what he was looking for and, pulling his toothpick from his lips, he pointed it at an advertisement.

Jasper raised an eyebrow. “You want me to respond to a lady seeking sexual favors?”

Everyone laughed and he grinned mockingly at Clayton, who was the only one not amused. The advertisements that he was pointing at were well known by men in the west. They were used to find brides, and occasionally husbands. There were not a lot of decent, single ladies out west, so the cowboys, ranchers and coal miners took advantage of any opportunity to marry one of these would-be wives. Jasper, however, was not aiming to get himself married off so soon. He was only thirty years old and he already owned his own ranch. He had enough vigor and drive to be successful and rich without needing a nagging wife and a bounty of brats to keep him going.

“I want you to respond to this ad here,” Clayton said, jabbing his disgusting toothpick at one advertisement in particular. Jasper read over it.
Annabel Revere.

“Jesus Christ, Clayton, she’s nineteen!”

Clayton rammed the splinter of wood directly into the newspaper, breaking it into even tinier pieces. “She sounds young and spoiled, and no fit match for a cowpoke like you. I BET YOU that you can’t get her to marry you and learn from you how to be a proper little homestead wife.”

Jasper waved him off with a hand. “I could do all that with my eyes closed,” he said.

He clearly was not threatened enough by the magnitude of the bet for Clayton’s liking. “I also bet,” Clayton added, “that you can’t do all that without taking her to bed with you for two months. If you can do all that, I will give you eight hundred dollars.”

There was a hush over the room at that. Aside from his gambling and being a general egomaniac, Jasper Daniels was famous for his womanizing ways. He had broken a lot of hearts in Jefferson County, Colorado. That was just the way he liked it. To marry this young woman without bedding her…that would be a challenge.

Jasper liked challenges. They made winning all the better.

Instead of saying anything to Clayton, he asked the barkeep for a piece of paper and wrote jotted out a quick response to the girl.

Dear Miss Revere,

I found your advertisement in the paper, and I am indeed interested in making your acquaintance. I was surprised to see a girl so young seeking marriage. If it can be true and you really do want to marry someone, then I am your man. My name is Jasper Daniels and I am a cattle rancher in Colorado. I will wire you the money necessary for you to come out here and join me on my ranch.

I hope you like horses and getting your hands dirty.

Regards,

Jasper Daniels

A maid came into the room and handed Annabel her mail. Her parents had dismissed most of their domestic workers, but they kept one of their maids. Annabel was thankful that they had kept her favorite one, though she supposed it soon would not matter. Just as she had hoped, letters came pouring in responding to her advertisement. She leafed through them, giggling and blushing at each man’s attempt to woo her with words.

When she found one from Jasper Daniels, she let out a complete guffaw. “What is it, Miss Anna?” the maid asked her curiously.

“I am going to be married to a gentleman out west,” she told her. “And I think this is the one.” She waved the letter, amused by the cowboy’s joke. Getting her hands dirty indeed. He must surely know that a lady such as she would not allow her hands to get even the slightest amount of dirt on them.

She read over his name again and again, liking the way it felt when she said it aloud. “Mrs. Jasper Daniels… Mrs. Annabel Daniels.”

He must surely be a suitor that was more suitable, someone who was young and dashing and fun to be around, not some old bore who was all money and no personality. Yes, she was going to marry this Mr. Daniels and show her parents that she knew exactly how to take care of herself.

CHAPTER TWO

A Bride As Described

As soon as Annabel received a notification in the mail that money was waiting for her at the local cash office, she dressed in her modest, outing outfit again and went to collect it. Mr. Daniels had indeed been generous. He had sent along enough money for her to take the train to Colorado and perhaps even have some left over. She was amused and pleased by his thoughtfulness, because she knew that she would not be able to just ask her parents for the money. Most likely, they would tell Annabel that they did not have a train trip in their budget.

When she arrived back home, her mother appeared flustered. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Mister Hughes has invited you to dine with him! You must get dressed at once.”

“Oh, who cares about old Mister Hughes, Mother?” Annabel said, scoffing. She dug into her purse and pulled out the letter from Jasper Daniels. She handed it over with a smug look on her face. “I am engaged to marry Mr. Daniels from Jefferson County, Colorado. He wants me to join him there right away.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “What on earth are you talking about?” she asked, reading over the letter as though it might be something Annabel had fabricated to get out of her commitments. “You cannot marry some strange man all the way in Colorado.”

“I can,” said Annabel. “And I shall.”

With that, she went to her room to begin packing up her things.