Stephen’s Bride (2 page)

The second man looked up at her. “Are you a criminal or loony?” 

He still had the glint of mirth in his eyes. This man at least looked like he had a relationship with water and a razor. In fact, he was quite handsome. Black wavy hair that fell across his broad forehead. Piercing blue eyes that never left her face and didn’t wander down her body like the first man’s had.

“No. Just desperate.”

He gave her a curt nod. “My offer stands, miss. I’ll marry you.”

“Now wait a minute,” the sheriff said, “you can’t just up and marry this woman. You have no idea what she’s all about.”

“Unless you have a wanted poster with her picture on it back there at the jail, Sheriff, you have no say in what this woman does. Or what I do.” He looked up at her and reached out both arms. “Jump and I’ll catch you.”

Why did she feel as though he meant a lot more than simply removing herself from the top of the stagecoach? “Are you sure, mister? You wouldn’t be tricking me just to get me off so the stagecoach can leave? I really do need someone to marry me.”

“No. I’m downright serious. If you need a husband bad enough to climb onto the roof of the stagecoach and ask strangers to marry you, then I’m willing.”

Why the devil was she hesitating? This is what she wanted, what she planned for when she ran out on Rupert this morning. This man was handsome, clean, kind, and the sheriff seemed to know him by name, so he must be an upstanding citizen. Why the uncertainty? She sighed and took a deep swallow. “All right.” She shimmied to the edge of the roof and pushed off, landing with a thud into two strong, muscular arms.

“How do you do, miss? My name is Stephen McCoy.” 

Now that she was closer, she noticed the slight dimple in his left cheek and tiny scar near his full lips. He grinned at her as if this was all a joke. Not to her.

“Please let me down, sir.”

“If I’m to be your husband shortly, I think I have the right to hold you in my arms.”

His words slid over her like warm honey, causing a slight quickening of her breath. “Not yet, sir. Please release me.”

With another teasing grin, he set her on her feet. Either the height of her stagecoach perch or his disarming smile caused her to stumble a bit, slightly dizzy. He grabbed her arm, his brows furrowed. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She smoothed out her skirts. “Is there a place we can talk? I have a few things I need to go over with you before we, ah, . . .”

“Marry?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Just a minute, McCoy. As your friend and peacemaker in Bartlett Creek, I insist on checking this woman out before I allow you to hitch up with her.”

“Really, Sheriff, do you think I would ride into town and make a public announcement if I was wanted by the law?” Now that she had a closer look at the other men who had gathered at her request for a husband, she didn’t want to lose Mr. McCoy.

The sheriff pushed back his hat and scratched his head. “I don’t know what to think, ma’am. All I know is this stagecoach has to be on its way, and I have to keep the peace. Do you have any luggage the driver needs to take off before he leaves?”

“Nah, she don’t have nothin’. She got on the stage right outside of Sterling with nothin’ but that bunch of flowers.”

Mr. McCoy regarded her. “If you’ve been on that stage with nothing but flowers since this morning, I’m thinking you could use a meal right about now. Why don’t we go on over to Bella’s Café and have some dinner? Then you can tell me all about what it is you need to go over with me.”

His suggestion was exactly what she needed. She was, in fact, pretty hungry right about now. Too nervous to eat her breakfast, she hadn’t had a bit of food since supper the night before. Before she could even answer, he’d taken her by the elbow and moved her away from the stagecoach that was pulling out of the town.

“Go on. Y’all can go on about your business now. The show’s over. Miss—” Mr. McCoy looked in her direction with raised brows.

“Bender,” she supplied.

“Me and Miss Bender have things to discuss.”

The sheriff shook his head. “I think you’re plum crazy, McCoy, but seeing as how you’re both adults, I’ll leave you be.” He pointed his finger at Calliope. “But I will be checking my wanted posters.”

She allowed Mr. McCoy to escort her across the street and down a few stores to a small café. Now that she was halfway through her plan, all she could think about was eating. Her stomach gave a very unladylike growl.

The café was small but bustling with diners. Mr. McCoy grabbed a table near the wall, which gave them a bit of privacy. He held out her chair and then sat across from her. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So why does a beautiful woman like you feel the need to ask strangers in an unknown town to marry her?”

Just then the waitress approached. “’Hello’, Stephen.” She cast a curious glance at Calliope. “What can I get for you two?”

“I’ll have the meatloaf.” He looked at Calliope. “The meatloaf is very good, but so is everything else. In fact, the chicken and dumplings is the absolute best I’ve ever had.” He grinned at the waitress. “Don’t you dare tell Rosie I said that.”

Rosie? Lord sakes. Did she just sit down to dinner with a man who accepted her proposal only to find out he was already married?

Stephen studied the young lady sitting across from him. She was beautiful. There was really no other word. Her auburn hair had probably been done up in some fancy style for what must have been her wedding day, but now it hung around her shoulders in riotous curls. Her green eyes looked out at the world with caution, but also with enough curiosity to make him believe there was an adventurous woman inside.

Well, of course there was a boldness to her, since she had arrived on a stagecoach declaring she wanted a man to marry her. He had decided to wait until she had her supper before the necessary questioning started. He did fully intend to marry her, as promised, if that was indeed what she wanted, but first he needed a little bit more information from Miss Bender.

Yes, as the sheriff said, he was probably plum crazy.

He wiped his mouth on the napkin and folded it alongside his plate. “As you probably realized, there are a few questions I would like answered before we proceed.”

She returned her fork to the table and set her hands in her lap. “Yes. I agree, Mr. McCoy.” She raised her chin. “There are several things I need to get straight, also.”

“Very well, I will go first.” He gave himself a few minutes to compose his thoughts, noticing Miss Bender’s fingers fidgeting with the folds of her skirts.

“Why are you obviously dressed for a wedding, yet arrived here in Bartlett Creek looking for a groom?”

“The reason is precisely why I need to outline my plan for our . . . marriage.” She took a deep breath. “I need a man to marry me so I can avoid marrying the man who wants to marry me, because he thinks he is the only one I can get to marry me, and I don’t want to marry him,” she finished in a rush.

Stunned into silence, Stephen dragged his hand down his face. “Can we start at the beginning?”

Two very becoming red dots rose to her cheeks. “Yes. I agree. At the beginning.” She cleared her throat and wiggled in her seat, making him very aware of her sweet little body, thoughts he did not want to visit right now.

“My father owned a very profitable and productive farm in Johnson County. We grow wheat and corn. Plus I have a splendid vegetable and herb garden that keeps us fed throughout the year. I have lived there my entire life and was very happy all those years. However, Papa died two months ago—“

“—I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” She dipped her chin. “The farm was left to me, it said so in Papa’s will.” She began to fiddle with her napkin. “Last week my neighbor, Mr. Rupert Melrose, came by and informed me that I would be marrying him as he and my father had planned. He said I couldn’t take care of the farm by myself, so he and Papa agreed I would wed him when the time came.” She placed a finger near her eye to catch a tear. “We knew Papa’s health was failing for months.”

“I take it this Mr. Melrose is the man you said you didn’t want to marry?”

“Correct. I don’t like Rupert, don’t trust him, and he’s a very controlling person. I just know if I married him, he would take over the farm, make all the decisions, and expect me to sit in the house and knit him socks.”

Stephen swallowed his chuckle at the scowl on her pretty face. “And you don’t want to knit.”

“I have always worked the farm with Papa. But even then, he made all the decisions and wouldn’t listen to any of my suggestions on how to improve things.” She sat forward, excitement in her eyes. “I read a lot, and I know there are so many new things that would improve our land, and make more money.” She sat back and slumped. “But Papa dismissed my ideas as being foolish because I’m a woman.”

“And you think this Rupert would do the same thing?”

“Oh, I know he would. He’s even worse than Papa when it comes to women. He was married once before and his poor wife died after about a year of being married to him.” She raised her chin. “I even have reason to believe he beat her.”

Stephen’s jaw tightened. If there was anything that set him off, it was a man who picked on women or children. God put men on this earth to protect them, not raise their hand to those who depended on them.

Miss Bender took a sip of her coffee. “Anyway, he came by yesterday with this dress,” she waved her hand over her body, “and said he would be arriving this morning to drive me to town for us to get married.”

“You do realize he couldn’t have forced you to make your vows.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea how forceful he can be. I know he would have worked it out ahead of time with the Judge to make sure he ignored any of my protests.”

“So you ran out on him, got onto the stagecoach and arrived in Bartlett Creek and asked for a man—any man—to marry you.”

“Yes.”

He folded his arms on the table and studied her. “And how will that help you? Isn’t one husband as good as another?”

“That’s part of my plan. I want you to sign a paper agreeing to leave the farm in my name and . . .”

His insides went on alert. “And?”

“And agree to a marriage in name only.”

Stephen just about spit out a mouthful of coffee all over Miss Bender’s wedding gown. “What?”

She sniffed and drew herself up. “Well, surely you don’t expect me to . . . you know . . . with a stranger!” She hurried on as he continued to stare at her open-mouthed. “The only reason I want a husband is to keep Rupert from insisting I must marry him.”

It was hard to tell, but from where he sat it appeared she was completely sincere. Marry this gorgeous woman and not avail himself of his husbandly rights? “That might be
your
reason for marrying, but the wedded state takes two people. When you jumped up on top of the stagecoach with your beautiful fiery hair and flashing green eyes, waving your bridal bouquet, you thought whoever agreed to marry you would settle for a ‘hands off’ policy?”

Her delicate fingertip drew circles on the tablecloth. “Yes,” she mumbled.

“Honey, you have no idea how men’s minds work.” He leaned down to look at her downturned face. “Do you think Alfred Minton, who was the first man to offer to marry you, would go along with this plan?”

She looked up at him. “I guess I hadn’t thought through that part of it. I was just so anxious to get away from Rupert I must have missed a few things.”

“A few important things, I would say.” He still didn’t understand why he’d agreed to marry her. He didn’t usually make such rash decisions, but something about Miss Bender captivated him, made him want to rescue her from whatever she was running from. And from any number of the men leering at her who would have been more than happy to take her to wife.

And make her life miserable.

When she had mentioned the farm, the idea grew even better. Married to Miss Bender, he would have a farm, and possibly a way to start a horse farm as well. And a beautiful wife. Who wanted a marriage in name only. He sighed. He’d have to work on that.

“I will be happy to sign anything that keeps the farm in your name. However, I will not consent to a lifelong marriage of convenience.” When her eyes grew wide, he added, “To ease your mind, though, I won’t insist on marital relations until you’re comfortable with the idea.”

She chewed her lip, studying him. He could almost see her brain working it out, trying to come to grips with his condition. Eventually, she took in a deep breath, which drew his eyes to her wonderful breasts and said, “All right. I will allow you your . . .” She held up her hand when he smiled. “But not until I feel the time is appropriate.”

He pulled out his pocket watch. “If we are going to get married today, we need to hurry. I have to pick up my niece and nephew from school and collect my wagon before we head back to the farm.

“Do you have a farm here, too?”

He shook his head as he stood and pulled out her chair. “It is my brother’s farm. He and his wife, Rosie, own the place. I’ve been living with them since I returned from the war two years ago.”

“Will it be a burden for them when you leave?”

“Not really. They have several hands that work the farm with them. In fact, it will give them more room when I move out. Right now the three oldest children are in one bedroom. It will be nice when I leave and they can give the boys one room and Amelia and baby Lucy their own room.”

They stepped out onto the boardwalk. Stephen extended his arm to Miss Bender. “Are you ready to get married, Miss Bender?”

“Yes. And please, all me Calliope.”

“Calliope it is, then.” His lips twitching in humor, he led her to the Justice of the Peace.
Yes, sheriff. I am indeed plum crazy.

***

Calliope stared at the gold band on her left hand. She was married. To a stranger. It said a lot about her feelings toward Rupert that she preferred a stranger to a man she’d known for years. On the other hand, she’d heard of a number of women, particularly in the southern states, who traveled west as mail order brides. This was really no different. At least she got to know her husband, at least a little bit before the wedding.