Read Texas Mail Order Bride Online
Authors: Linda Broday
Texas Mail Order Bride
Copyright © 2015 by Linda Broday
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Cover art by Gregg Gulbronson
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Many, many thanks to my awesome critique partners, who are always quick to lend support and gently push me to be a better writer than I am. I'm so blessed to have these wonderful ladies. They welcomed me into their little family and made me feel that I truly have something to contribute. Our friendship and admiration for each other means the world to me. May each of us keep learning and growing and ever striving for the elusive golden ring as we travel this amazing path together. I love you all.
North Central Texas
Spring 1878
It was strange how a day could go south quicker than a steam locomotive on a downhill slope.
Cooper Thorne drew his black hat farther down on his forehead and reflected on that fact as he rode across his ranch land, trying to recapture the good mood he'd enjoyed before his morning turned into an unholy mess.
He kneed Rebel into a trot and navigated a small rise before reining the powerful buckskin to a halt to take in the breathtaking sunrise. This was his favorite vantage point from which to gaze out over the gently rolling hills that comprised the Long Odds Ranch.
Tall cliffs bordered the six hundred and forty acres on three sides. The only way to enter his spread was from the east. He felt safe here.
It had taken blood and sweat and dogged determination to get where he was. Fair to say he'd been through hell and come out the other side to claim this life for his own.
He rested his elbow on the saddle horn and took in the view.
This wild Texas land was his home. For the first time in his almost thirty years, he'd truly found a place to belong. It felt right, and his soul was at peace at last.
Or as much as it ever would be.
The rich black soil that could raise fine crops or prime cattle was now in his blood. It had put back together his broken dreams.
He'd chomped at the bit to get out and put his hands to workâ¦until he got to breakfast. Mack Malone, the cook he'd hired a month ago, had burned the biscuits, charred the eggs, and mangled the flapjacks. Then his horse threw a shoe and Cooper had to round up the ranch blacksmith to put a new one on. And to make matters worse, one of his ranch hands up and quit with branding about to start. All before dawn. He needed this moment of peace before heading back to work.
Because heaven only knew what awaited him nextâ¦
***
His middle brother, Rand Sinclair, sat cooling his heels on the porch when Cooper finally made it back to the house sometime that afternoon.
Rand's ever-present grin widened as he unwound his tall frame and got slowly to his feet. “Thought I'd have to send up smoke signals or get Brett to track you down or something. Figured you'd be coming in to get some vittles sooner or later, but I'd about decided maybe you'd packed up and moved on without telling anyone.”
Cooper dismounted. “I do run a ranch, you know. Out here we work from can to cain't, unlike you. All you do is pour whiskey down drunks and watch their wives have a conniption.”
“There's a lot more to it than that, and you darn well know it. I work hard to make a living.”
“Reckon so. You eaten?”
“This an invite?”
“All you'll get.”
“In that case, I can always eat.”
“Don't I know it.” Cooper led the way to the kitchen table.
Over a plateful of beans with chunks of ham and fried potatoes that were thankfully almost edible, Cooper turned to Rand. “What brings you all the way out here? Shouldn't you be in town lubricating those drunks and taking their money?”
Rand owned the Lily of the West in the nearby town of Battle Creek. Their younger brother, Brett Liberty, had acquired the Wild Horse Ranch, five miles as the crow flies from the Long Odds Ranch, though it was more like seven or eight if you traveled by road.
“They don't need me for that. It'll happen whether I'm there or not.” A big grin stretched from ear to ear and devilment twinkled in Rand's blue eyes. He leaned back as though very satisfied with himself.
“What's got you in such a good mood?” Cooper sensed a shoe was about to drop. He didn't like dropping shoes. Or grinning brothers who knew something he didn't. “You look like a cat that just caught himself a big fat mouse.”
“A woman arrived on the stage today. A mail-order bride. Claims you agreed to marry her.”
Cooper's fork clattered to the table. “Of all theâ¦! Whose idea of a sick joke is this?”
“Can't understand why you didn't see fit to tell Brett and me that you'd changed your mind about taking a wife,” Rand teased. “You being head honcho of the Battle Creek Bachelors' Club and all.”
“You know better than that. Wipe that grin off your face before I knock it off,” Cooper growled.
Rand shrugged but kept grinning anyway. “Fact is, she stepped off the stage and was mighty put out that you weren't there waitin' to welcome her. I did what I could to help.”
“I'll just bet.”
His brother put his hand over his heart in mock horror. “You wound me.”
“Yeah, well, whoever is behind these rotten shenanigans had best take warning and find a rock to crawl under. When I catch him, there'll be hell to pay. For all I know, this could be one of your harebrained stunts. You seem to think it's so all-fired hilarious.”
The grin faded from Rand's face. “I wouldn't joke about anything as serious as this, Coop. After all these years, surely you believe that.”
“Yeah, I don't reckon you'd be mixed up in something like this. But someone sure the hell brought her here and put her up to this.” Either that, or the woman had hatched the scheme all by herself. Maybe she was looking for some easy money and thought Cooper would pay her off to leave.
Well, the joke would be on her. Cooper had little money, easy or otherwise. What he got he turned around and put right back into the ranch. All except for the nest egg he'd put aside to buy the Zachary place that neighbored his property. He almost had enough saved, and then the better portion of the valley would be his.
Rand laid a hand on Cooper's shoulder. “Reckon only one thing to do. Come into town and straighten her out. Name's Miss Delta Dandridge. Came all the way from Georgia. Says she's not leaving till she talks to you. She took a room at Mabel's Boardinghouseâyou can find her there.”
If that wasn't just dandy! The day that had begun with such promise had certainly gone to hell in a handbasket fifteen ways from Sunday.
And who in the hell had a name like Delta?
“You tell that little conniver I'll be in town first thing in the morning,” Cooper snapped. “I'll send her packing.”
***
Delta tried to still the tremor in her hands as she stepped onto the porch of Mabel's Boardinghouse. She breathed the crisp morning air.
Rancher
looking
for
a
wife. Must be of sound mind, body, and moral character.
That's what the notice in the
Matrimonial
Harvest
catalog had said. She'd upheld her end of the bargain and could attest with certainty to her exemplary mind, body, and character.
But the gentleman?
That Mr. Thorne hadn't seen fit to meet her stage yesterday still smarted. Alone, with only a stranger to guide her, she'd taken a room here at the boardinghouse rather than the dark, dreary hotel that had sent a sense of foreboding shivering up her spine.
Now she wasn't sure she was quite ready to meet the man who'd agreed to be her husband.
Yet, here he was, a few feet away.
Fortunately, the tall rancher had his back to her, which gave her the advantage of seeing him first.
“Mr. Thorne? Cooper Thorne?”
He turned and Delta's breath caught in her throat.
My goodness, he was quite impressive.
Tall and lean, there was a rugged quality about him from his chiseled features down to boots that had many miles on them. And a good deal of cow manure, if she wasn't mistaken. His dark gray shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and the black Stetson that shaded his eyes had seen better days.
Yet it was the deadly Colt on his hip that gave her pause. He appeared a man to be reckoned with. Everything about him was hard and unyielding and put her in mind of someone who'd never known any kind of softness. For a moment, it took her aback. She wondered if she could please him.
“Miss Dandridge, I suppose.” The deep timbre of his voice seemed to vibrate the air between them.
“Yes. I'm so happy to finally meet you.” She smiled, covering the few steps with her hand extended.
He touched her palm for the briefest of seconds and cleared his throat. “There's been a terrible misunderstanding.”
The wild beating of Delta's heart suddenly stopped, and for a moment she feared it wouldn't start again. “What are you saying?”
“I don't know how to break this to you gently. I'm not looking for a wife, ma'am. Never was. I'm a bachelor and quite content to stay this way. I'm not sure how such a mix-up could happen.”
“So you never intended to keep your promise? You dragged me here under false pretenses. Why would you do that, Mr. Thorne?”
From under the brim of his hat, she glimpsed surprise and something indiscernible in an honest gaze that was the color of gunmetal.
“What I'm saying isâ¦well, I didn't send for you.”
White-hot anger swept over Delta. It was one thing to spurn her, but calling her a liar made her mad enough to fight. Yanking the packet of letters from her pocket, she thrust them into his hands.
“Then would you mind explaining these? If you can.”
Cooper didn't spare them a glance. “Look, lady. I didn't write them. And if I ever find out who did, I'll make him rue the day he took it into his head to claim to be me.”
“If you'll just read the letters, you'll see the promises, the words of endearment that brought me here.”
A muscle in his jaw worked as he shook his head. “Once and for all, I'm sorry. I truly am.”
“Maybe if you just gave yourself a chance to get to know me.”
“I can't offer hope where there is none. I'm sure you're a very fine woman who'll make someone an excellent wife.” Finality echoed in his soft words. “I'm not on the market.”
Delta went very still. Slowly, her situation began to sink in. There would be no marriage. She was stuck in Battle Creek, Texas, with an empty purse and no prospects. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill and humiliate her even further.
He continued, “Seems we've both been played for fools. I'll be glad to pay your way to wherever you want to go.”
The last thread of Delta's dignity held fast. Her voice was cold and brittle. “You can keep your money, Mr. Thorne. I won't take one cent from you.”
With that, she jerked the letters from his hand and strode into the boardinghouse with her head held high.
