Second Chance Brides (9 page)

“Is that another one of those law books you’re always reading?” Garrett glanced sideways. “Sure sounds like boring stuff to me.”

“Yes, it’s a law book, and no, I’m not reading. Can’t hold it steady enough.”

“What do you find in there that’s so fascinating? I picked up one of those fat books and read a few paragraphs and found it more boring than looking at a wood wall all day.” Garrett shook his head.

“It’s just interesting to me. I can’t explain it.” Mark studied the rolling hills dotted with wildflowers. The tornado may have torn up the town some, but the heavy rains it brought had caused the grass to green up and wildflowers to bloom again. The sky was a brilliant blue with a few white, puffy clouds drifting by.

What would Garrett say if Mark told him that he was thinking about quitting the freight business and hanging out his shingle as a lawyer? He’d probably starve to death in Lookout. No, if he were to become a lawyer, he’d need to move to a bigger town like Dallas.

Mark rubbed his jaw. He’d left Lookout once before, and the situation couldn’t have ended any worse. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Mark’s gaze shot back toward his brother. The hair on his nape stood up. A surprise from Garrett could mean anything from sand burrs in your underwear to oiled front-porch steps. He nearly broke his neck the day he stepped on those and his foot flew out from under him. Then there was the time when they were still boys and Garrett hitched the wagon and handed the reins to Mark. When he slapped the reins on the horses’ backs, instead of the wagon moving forward, Mark was yanked to the ground and dragged halfway across the county because Garrett hadn’t hitched the harnesses up right. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced sideways at his brother. “What kind of surprise?”

Garrett grinned wide. “Guess you’ll just have to wait till we get back home to find out.”

His curiosity rising, he nudged his brother’s arm with his elbow. “Go on, tell me what it is.”

“Nope. Not gonna do it.”

Great. Mark scowled. Now his imagination would run faster than a stampeding herd of cattle in a thunderstorm. What if his brother ordered
him
a bride, but no, he wouldn’t do that again. Mark peeked sideways. Would he?

He adjusted the brim of his hat to keep the sun’s glare from reaching his eyes. No, Garrett wouldn’t order more brides when they were already supporting two. “You know, it’s costing us a pretty penny to pay room and board for those two brides.”

Garrett nodded. “Don’t I know it. I guess we should be grateful things turned out like they did, and that third bride ended up going to jail.”

He remembered how Carly Payton, a member of an outlaw gang, had pretended to be Ellie Blackstone, the third bride who came to Lookout to marry Luke. Carly was a pretty thing with her black hair and deep blue eyes, but she had a roughness to her. She was in prison now, and the real Ellie Blackstone had returned home with her brother. “I heard Rachel say she was writing to that outlaw bride.”

“Yeah, that’s what Luke said. If anyone can help her change her ways, it’s Rachel.”

“Yeah.” Mark swatted at a mosquito on his hand. “Luke sure seems happy these days.”

“Marriage agrees with him.”

“You ever think of marrying up?”

Garrett grimaced but kept his gaze on the road ahead. “Yeah, sure. But I’ve never met a gal that interested me enough that I wanted to make a lifetime commitment to her. What about you?”

Mark thoughts raced straight to Annabelle. At one time he thought he’d die if she didn’t become his wife. But he wasn’t the one who had died. He gritted his teeth. What a disaster that whole situation had been. Since then, he hadn’t trusted himself around women and had kept his distance. “No, I don’t reckon I’ll ever marry.”

Garrett fired a surprised look in his direction. “Why not? Don’t you want kids of your own? We’ve got a solid business, and you could support a family now—at least if we don’t have to pay for those brides much longer.”

Mark didn’t answer. He couldn’t tell his brother what had happened back in Abilene. All his life he’d wanted Garrett’s approval, just like he’d want his father’s, before their pa lost his business and became a drunk. But Mark never seemed to measure up to his pa’s expectations. He liked to read, and his ma had encouraged it while she was alive, but Pa wanted him to work more, like a man, rather than spend his time with book learning. His pa couldn’t read and didn’t understand how a book could take you to a time and place you could never travel to yourself. In a book, Mark had explored the Alaskan wilderness, traveled on a ship to Europe, and fought pirates and rescued royalty and—damsels in distress. His thoughts returned to Miss Bennett and Miss O’Neil. Both were more or less stranded in Texas thanks to him and his brother. Who would rescue them?

“We’ve got to do something about those brides.” Garrett successfully yanked Mark right out of his musings.

“Such as?” Mark asked.

“We need to find them work or else someone to marry.”

Mark held up his good hand. “Just hold on. You aren’t concocting another one of your schemes, are you?”

Garrett held a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“No, I just know you.”

“I’ve been thinking on the situation, and what would it hurt to talk to some of our customers and see if any of them are looking to marry?”

“It could hurt a lot. We might lose all our customers.”

“Stop being so cynical. We’ll just ask around, and if we find someone wanting to marry, we can tell them about Miss Bennett and Miss O’Neil.”

Mark leaned back in his seat and tugged his hat down farther. “No thanks. I’m not stepping in that pile of manure.”

“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. I’ll do the asking if you’re not at ease doing it.”

“Fine. You do that.” Mark tried to get comfortable. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come along since he couldn’t load or unload anything unless it was something small. It wasn’t likely they would get robbed since they were just hauling wood and building supplies for the new store and a few smaller crates for local ranchers, but you never knew when someone with a gun would show up. Even if he couldn’t shoot, having two men together might steer away some thieves.

Mark listened to the jingle of the harnesses and the peaceful plodding of the horses’ hooves. A light breeze stirred the hot air, cooling him a bit. He thought about the book he’d been reading. For years, he’d consumed law books. He felt ready to set up shop as an attorney, but somehow he had to find a way to tell his brother. And he had to consider leaving Lookout again. He could only hope and pray this time would turn out far better than the last.

A buzzing intruded into Mark’s dreams, and he jumped, swatting a fly away from his ear. His blurry gaze sharpened, and he saw Garrett standing on Flip Anderson’s porch.

“It’s like I said, both those women thought they’d marry the marshal, but we all know that didn’t happen.”

Flip yanked off his hat and rolled the brim. The tall, thin rancher sported a moustache nearly as wide as his face. “Yeah, I kinda felt sorry for them gals. So ya think they’re willing to marry someone else?”

Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at his brother. What was Garrett doing? He climbed off the wagon and stretched the kinks from his body, then ambled toward the porch. A dipper of cool water would taste good about now.

Flip nodded. “Mark, good to see ya.”

“You, too. Mind if I grab a drink from your well?” Mark smiled at Flip, then cast a warning glance at Garrett.

“Help yerself. I just hauled up a fresh bucketful.” He pointed across the yard to the well, as if Mark hadn’t already spotted it.

The screen door creaked, and Flip’s mother, Lucy Anderson, walked out carrying a tray covered in cookies, cups, and a coffeepot. Mark swung around and headed back to the porch.

“Mornin’, boys. Come have a sit-down and take some refreshment.” Mrs. Anderson set the tray on the porch table and started pouring coffee. After serving the men, she poured herself a cup and sat down. “I heard you talkin’ about them gals. I sure wish that my Flip could marry one of ’em.”

Flip turned beet red and seemed to be studying the porch floor as if something was wrong with it.

Garrett chuckled. “Well, maybe we need to figure out a way to get him together with them so they can meet face-to-face.”

Lucy stared out toward the pasture, where several dozen head of short horn cattle grazed. “Hmm…I could invite them leftover brides out here for dinner. Maybe one of ’em would take a shinin’ to my Flip.”

“Ma, that don’t hardly seem proper, inviting two unmarried women clear out here.”

“And one of them has a twisted ankle. She hurt it during the storm.” Mark wasn’t sure why he’d come to the boardinghouse brides’ defense, but it didn’t seem right that everyone was talking about them.

“Yeah, it’d be better if you went to town, Flip. Maybe what you boys need is to have a shindig of some kind so’s the local bachelors could meet them gals.” Lucy helped herself to another sugar cookie. The older woman’s faded blue eyes twinkled. “I’d sure like to see my Flip married before my foot’s in the grave.”

Flip’s head jerked toward his mother. “Don’t talk like that, Ma.”

“I’d just like to know someone was taking care of you after I’m gone, that’s all. And I’d sure like to see my grandkids.”

Flip jumped up so fast the coffee cups rattled. “I reckon I ought to head back to the barn. Got a horse with the colic. Need to keep my eye on her.”

Mark held back a chuckle. Seems like he wasn’t the only man who didn’t want folks matchmaking him.

They said their good-byes and returned to the wagon. Mark climbed up beside his brother, well aware that the wheels were churning in Garrett’s mind. “What are you thinking?”

Garrett slapped the reins down on the horses’ backs and yelled, “Heeyup!”

The wagon lurched forward, groaning and creaking. Once back on the main road, Garrett leaned his elbows on his knees, allowing the reins to dangle in his fingers. “I’ve been ruminating on some ideas.”

Mark’s stomach clenched. What was Garrett up to now? Whatever it was, he wanted no part of it.

“What do you think about starting up a social on Saturdays? Have some ladies fix food, have some music and dancing?”

“Why?” Mark’s voice rose higher than intended.

Garrett’s gaze darted in his direction. “So we can get those gals married off. That’s why.”

Mark leaned back and crossed his arms, shaking his head. It might sound like a half-decent plan, but something was sure to go wrong. “That’s a bad idea, brother. You best leave well enough alone.”

“Nope, I think it’s a great idea. We’ll get unmarried men to come, and sooner or later, someone’s bound to catch the eyes of them gals.”

“Have you considered that it will cost money to hire musicians? And you can’t expect the women to come and bring food for free all the time. If you did something like that, you’d need to hire Polly to cook, most likely. Besides, there are dozens of unmarried men, and just those two gals. Doesn’t sound like much fun for either side.”

“Hmm…” Garrett rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re probably right about the food. But the single men around here are desperate. They won’t care if they only get one dance with a pretty gal, but maybe we could invite folks from other nearby towns and ranches. Maybe some of the ranchers will bring their older daughters. You’re right. We’ll need more than the two boardinghouse brides for the men to dance with.”

“I’m warning you. This is a bad idea.”

“Aw, stop your fretting.” Garrett glanced at him and grinned wickedly. “Don’t forget about your surprise.”

Mark heaved a sigh, and his mind raced. He had forgotten, and from the look in his brother’s eyes, he had a feeling he wouldn’t like this surprise much.

Shannon practiced walking around the parlor using a crutch the marshal had borrowed from the doctor’s office. The long branch had a nub halfway down where her hand rested, and though the V under her armpit had been wrapped with fabric, she still found it uncomfortable. But if she was going to work at the freight office, she had to get mobile.

Her skirt snagged against the long stick, making forward progress difficult and throwing her off balance. A chuckle sounded behind her, and she took several small steps in a half circle until she was facing the other direction.

Rachel smacked her husband on the arm. “Don’t you dare laugh at her.”

The marshal pressed his lips together for a moment. “Sorry, but I think that crutch is too long.”

“Well, cut it down to fit her.” Rachel glared at Luke playfully with her hands on her hips.

He shook his head. “I can’t. It belongs to Doc Phillips.”

“Well, I don’t see how Shannon will manage that bumpy street when she can barely get around the parlor.”

Shannon stared at the newlywed couple. Rachel looked pretty clothed in her brown work dress with tiny yellow sunflowers on it. A fresh apron covered the garment, and her long brown braid fell down over her shoulder, hanging clear past her waist. Dressed in black pants and a medium blue shirt, Luke stood next to her, staring down at the stick that held Shannon upright.