His Bewildering Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 3) (7 page)

“I will not have a daughter of mine soiling her hands by competing with a—”

This time, when Bonneville insulted Wendy, half of the people around them gasped in disgust. Emma covered her young daughter’s ears and whisked her off to the side. Aiden carried his and Katie’s children away behind her, but Katie stayed to fight.

“Are you afraid of a little competition, Mr. Bonneville?” she raged on behalf of Wendy and, Travis suspected, everyone else who had been oppressed by landowners like Bonneville for decades, in America and in Katie’s homeland of Ireland.

“Certainly not.” Bonneville sniffed and turned away from Katie. “I believe there are laws forbidding
her sort
from owning businesses, is all.”

“There are not,” Estelle spoke up. Several of the people watching the confrontation hummed in agreement. Of all people in Haskell, Estelle would know. She too had been born a slave, even though her father had been the plantation owner.

“If you’re so keen to open a dress shop, Melinda,” Katie asked, crossing her arms, “how come you haven’t done it already? You’ve been living here for years now.”

“Well.” Melinda sniffed and tossed her curls. “I was just about to get around to doing it.”

Katie clearly didn’t believe her, and neither did Travis. It was about time he came to his wife’s defense.

“If you ask me, the women of Haskell should have a choice of who will make their dresses.” He turned a smile to Wendy. She was baffled by the conflict, but smiled in return anyhow.

“Why, that’s a splendid idea,” Howard boomed. “We’ll decide this through competition.”

A few of the people watching the discussion cheered. Several more moaned, hiding their faces in their hands. Travis only raised an eyebrow. His former boss liked competitions a little too much. They didn’t always work out the way he planned either.

“What do you mean, a competition?” Travis asked what he was sure several others were thinking.

The glow in Howard’s eyes grew. He hooked his thumbs in the pocket of his vest and rocked back on his feet. “What we have here is an opportunity. We have two talented young women who want to open dress shops, and we have a wealth of women who need dresses. What I propose is that each of our seamstresses, the new Mrs. Montrose and Miss Melinda Bonneville, present the town with a series of dress designs, say, next Sunday. The ladies of Haskell will peruse the designs, deciding which ones they like best, and place their orders with our seamstresses. Then, Mrs. Montrose and Miss Bonneville will be given one week to complete and deliver as many dresses as they can based on their orders. At the end of the competition, the clients will score the designs and executions. Whichever seamstress completes the most satisfactory designs within the allotted time will be granted her dress shop.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Bonneville drawled. “My Melinda can’t possibly be expected to work that hard within that short a space of time. It’s impossible. It’s degrading. It’s—”

“I’ll do it,” Wendy spoke up, a fierce grin lighting her beautiful face. “Just give me the chance, and I’ll do it and then some.”

Chapter Five

Ripples of excitement ran through the room. Travis could feel it swirling around Wendy. Before he knew it, he was caught up too.

“You really want to have a competition to make dresses?” he asked, leaning closer to her to be heard over the murmurs and comments.

“Yes,” Wendy replied. Her dark eyes danced with the challenge. The determined grin that pulled at the corners of her shapely mouth did things to Travis that were better not to think about in church. “I can’t think of a better way to showcase both my skills and my commitment to opening a shop,” she went on, giving his arm a squeeze. “This is a perfect idea.”

Howard was standing close enough to hear her. “Ha! I thought you’d think so, Mrs. Montrose. You have the look of a fighter about you.”

Surprised at being addressed, Wendy turned and blinked at the imposing form of Howard Haskell in the throes of an idea. “Thank you, sir.”

“I like having fighters in my town,” he went on.

“It’s not your town,” Bonneville growled. “And this contest is ridiculous.”

“I don’t see that it’s up to you, Rex,” Howard shot back.

Travis’s muscles bunched as if a physical fight were about to break out. Nothing good ever came from Howard and Bonneville facing each other directly. “It seems to me that it’s up to the ladies to decide whether they want this contest,” he said, raising a hand, but stopping short of stepping between the two. “Since it’s their business and all.”

He glanced sideways at Wendy. In the last few minutes, she had transformed from a cautious newcomer to a resolute warrior. What he wouldn’t give to take her aside somewhere and ask her a thousand questions about how she had gotten that way. He didn’t think he’d mind kissing his new wife a few times either.

“I relish the opportunity to compete for the women of Haskell,” Wendy said.

It was a clever choice of words. More than a few of the women who had drifted over to hear what was going on hummed and smiled as if flattered.

Melinda’s glance darted around the gathering women with a desperate edge to it. “Well…well I want to compete too,” she announced. “And you’ve all known me for much longer than you’ve known her.”

More murmurs from the women. Whatever Howard and Bonneville thought, even Travis could see that the women were already decided on the matter. They shifted from studying Wendy and Melinda’s faces to scrutinizing their dresses.

“Could you make me a Sunday gown with one of those stylish bustles?” Mrs. Kline, the mercantile owner’s wife asked.

“I’m sure I—”

“Yes, I could,” Melinda cut off Wendy’s reply. “I can make anything that anyone wants.”

“I’ve always fancied a dress that is serviceable and beautiful for everyday wear,” Katie said.

“I’ll make that too,” Melinda snapped before she was finished. “Better than her.”

“Melinda,” Honoria whispered behind her sister. “You can’t work fast enough to—”

“Shut up, Honoria. I’ll win this contest with one hand tied behind my back.”

“That’s the spirit,” Howard boomed. “Of course, we’ll need to have rules.”

Bonneville grumbled and stepped closer to his daughters. “I am against this in every way.”

“But Papa,” Melinda whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear her. “This is our chance to show just how superior we are.”

Wendy’s back went stiff beside Travis. He checked on her out of the corner of his eyes and found her standing with her chin up and steel in her eyes. It was almost enough to make him laugh. Anyone who thought they were superior to the woman who stood beside him had another think coming.

“Now, this contest should take place on neutral territory,” Howard went on. He craned his neck, searching around the church. Many of the townspeople had already left to head over to the school, where their potluck lunch was waiting, but Howard found who he was looking for. “Ah! Gunn! Come over here, man.”

The circle discussing the contest—now well over a dozen strong—turned in unison. Theophilus Gunn flinched at the sight of so many people suddenly staring at him. He was talking to Charlie Garrett, and at Howard’s waving, both men came over to join the conversation.

“Gunn. We’re shaping up to have a capital dress-making competition on our hands,” Howard explained.

“Oh?” As proper as an English butler, Gunn folded his hands in front of him and took in the various excited and curious expressions of the crowd waiting to hear what would happen next.

“We need a place to hold it,” Howard went on. “I say it should be the hotel.”

“Why the hotel?” Bonneville barked.

“Because it’s neutral ground,” Howard explained with a scowl. “Also, there’s enough room there to store the ladies’ work. And Gunn here can be the umpire.”

“Me, sir?” Gunn’s brow shot up.

“Yes, you. You’re as impartial as anyone gets in these parts.”

A smile spread across Gunn’s sage face. “Thank you, sir. It would be an honor.”

“Do you agree?” Howard growled at Bonneville, as if expecting a fight.

Bonneville rubbed his chin, eyes narrowed, studying Theophilus Gunn. For his part, Gunn merely stared back at him, expression blank. At last, Bonneville said, “All right. I agree.”

“But Papa,” Melinda interrupted, eyes wide and face pale with panic. “Why do we need an umpire or a judge or whatever you want to call it at all?” She swayed closer to him and hissed, “He’ll just get in the way.”

“Hush, Melinda.” Bonneville dipped close to her ear and whispered something that brought relief to Melinda’s face and suspicion to Travis.

“Good.” Howard nodded, ignoring the side drama. “It’s decided then. The dress-making competition will take place at the hotel, and Theophilus Gunn will be the umpire.”

“Are you all right with this, sir?” Gunn asked Charlie. “It’s your hotel.”

Charlie was busy trying to hide a chuckle. “Oh, by all means, Gunn, by all means.”

“It’s settled,” Howard announced. “Now let’s go over to the school and eat before the baseball game.”

Everyone moved at once. The thunder of over a dozen people walking along with the swell of conversation as they went left Travis feeling as though he’d endured a stampede.

“It’s too bad my sister, Bessie, is stuck in Denver doing so poorly,” Herb Waters said as he passed Wendy and Travis. “A new dress would cheer her right up.”

“Well, that was not what I expected my introduction into Haskell society to be like,” Wendy said once he’d moved on, her free hand pressed to her chest.

“Oh.” Travis paused, facing her instead of leading her out of the church and on to the school with everyone else. “Should I have said something to stop it? Honestly, I don’t have the first idea about how a husband is supposed to stand up for a wife.”

Wendy chuckled. “You’re doing a fine job so far.”

She urged him to keep walking, so the two of them headed on, following the stream of people crossing through the church yard to the school, which stood on the other side of the baseball diamond.

“I noticed Mr. Bonneville talking to you before plans for the dressmaking competition were hatched,” Wendy went on, her rich voice warm.

Prickles of self-consciousness broke out down Travis’s back. “Yeah.” He didn’t need to wait for Wendy to ask why before saying, “He wanted to talk to me about the job.”

“He…he didn’t cancel his offer, did he?” She gripped his arm more tightly.

A pinch of uncertainty gnawed at Travis’s gut. It sounded like she was worried he’d end up without a job at all. In a flash, everything became clear. No wonder she’d seemed so disappointed. She was worried about whether he’d be able to provide for her or not. She needed to feel secure. And for him, that meant working for Bonneville under any conditions.

“Don’t you worry.” He smiled, tucking her arm more tightly against his side. “You and I are going to be sitting pretty in our own little cabin before too long. Bonneville is just a step on the road.”

He expected Wendy to smile with relief. She did smile, but it was tense, forced. His confidence faltered.

“If…if you’re having second thoughts,” she began quietly. “If you’re not in a financial position to support a wife at this time, I’m…I’m sure there’s a way to undo the marriage, considering…considering nothing has happened yet,” she said, eyes fluttering down, a dark blush coming to her cheeks.

Travis felt as though someone had thrust a hot poker into his chest. The very last thing he wanted to do was call the whole thing off, even if it could be done at this point.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, though it made his heart burn and his throat close up.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “No. But if it’s what
you
want…”

“It isn’t,” he assured her. Only, what he did want involved him being far less of a gentleman than Wendy deserved. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “How about this? How about the two of us move forward one step at a time? I was going to see if Elizabeth Haskell might let us move into the Hen House at Paradise Ranch together, even though I don’t technically work for Howard anymore.”

“The Hen House?” Wendy shook her head, baffled.

Travis chuckled. “It’s this small cottage Howard built on his property in the spring for newlywed couples if their house in The Village isn’t finished. Luke and Eden Chance lived there for a few months.”

“That’s very nice of Mr. Haskell to provide.”

“Yes, well, I would ask about us moving in there, but it sounds like it will be a whole lot handier for you to keep staying at the hotel while this competition is going on.”

“Yes,” Wendy agreed slowly. “But…but will that mean we won’t get to see each other much?”

Travis blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Dangit, but he wanted to spend all of his time with his wonderful new wife, not out in the paddocks on the ranch with a bunch of cows, twiddling his thumbs while waiting for Bonneville to make things official.

“We’ll work it out,” he promised with a smile, taking Wendy’s arm and starting back along the path to the school. “One way or another, we’ll find a way to be together.”

Wendy had never been naïve enough to think that marriage was easy, but the more days that passed, the more bewildering her marriage seemed. She continued to stay at the hotel, spending a good part of her day at a table Mr. Gunn had set up for her in the lobby, where she could both sketch designs for the upcoming dress competition and socialize with the curious ladies of Haskell. Everyone seemed to want to get to know her after the announcement about the competition was made at Sunday’s potluck. She’d hardly had the chance to watch the baseball game, so many people approached her in the stands. She’d hardly had a chance to talk to Travis.

She wasn’t about to complain, though. In just a few days, she learned two very important things. First, that Haskell had a shockingly small female population compared to the amount of men who had moved there. It was no wonder men were sending to Hurst Home for brides. But every one of that small number of women seemed hungry to have a seamstress in town. Melinda had made dresses for her friends in the past, but
only
her friends, as she saw fit. Second, every woman and man in town respected Travis…and they were surprised he had married her when Cody had abandoned her. What Wendy couldn’t seem to work out is whether they were shocked because of who she was or whether the surprise came from never expecting that Travis would marry at all.

“Mrs. Montrose?”

Wendy wore a deep frown and sat in silence contemplation of the question, her sketching pencil suspended over her paper, when Theophilus Gunn ventured over to interrupt her.

“Yes?” Wendy shook herself out of her thoughts, set her pencil down, and pressed the backs of her hands to her heated cheeks to cool them. “I’m sorry, can I help you with something, Mr. Gunn?”

Mr. Gunn stood beside her table for a moment, his own brow creased in thought, his hands clasped behind his back. Wendy could practically see the gears turning in his mind.

“Perhaps I can help you with something,” he said after an intake of breath. “You seem…disquiet.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Wendy smiled, lowering her eyes to her designs so that Mr. Gunn wouldn’t see the lie there.

Mr. Gunn hummed. “I’ve seen more than my fair share of troubled souls,” he said, moving to sit in the chair across the table from Wendy. His back remained perfectly straight as he folded his hands on the table. Wendy couldn’t spot a single fleck of dust on his impeccable uniform. “I’ve found that it helps people to talk about their problems to an impartial judge.”

A sudden grin split Wendy’s face. “And seeing as Howard Haskell has appointed you to be that impartial judge…”

Gunn blinked in confusion, then laughed. “The ‘umpire.’ Of course.” He brushed that away with a roll of his eyes. “Meaningless, seeing as we all know how the competition is going to turn out.”

“Oh? Do we?” Wendy leaned toward him. She barely knew this man, but something about him encouraged her to bare her soul.

“Melinda Bonneville has the attention span of a— You’re evading my question.” He arched an eyebrow, giving him a sly look. “So I will be bold and venture to answer it myself. You’re at a loss because of your newfound married state.”