A Bargain For A Bride: Clean mail order bride romance (Montana Passion Book 1) (9 page)

“Are you sure you won’t tell me where we’re going? Not even a small hint?” Moira asked again, ignoring the rebellious look in Pryor’s eye, the look that told her he wasn’t going to divulge anything before it was time.

They’d left Gretchen at the cabin, much to the girl’s horror given what would ordinarily be scandalous behavior, and ridden out on the horses to the north of Pryor’s claim, heading back in the direction of New Hope, despite the man’s promise that they wouldn’t be going nearly that far. They hadn’t even saddled the horses, so Moira knew the distance couldn’t be all that great.

“No, ma’am. If I tell you now, you won’t have any reason to listen politely while I tell it to the other fella.”

“What other ‘fella’?” Moira demanded.

“I can’t tell you that either. If I tell you who the other fella is, you’ll know where we’re going!” He winked at her, a tiny flicker of mannerism that had the effect of nearly stopping her heart. She blinked and cleared her mind of any thoughts about Pryor’s good looks, and forced herself to think instead about finding her bearings in the wide open plain.

“Okay, you twisted my arm,” Pryor began, but a bewildered look on Moira’s face made him laugh. “Sorry, I mean, you convinced me. That’s frontier talk for ‘you convinced me’ if it ever comes up again.”

“I see. And what did I convince you of, exactly?”

“I’ll give you a little hint about where we’re going.”

“Oh, good! I was beginning to think we were riding these poor animals back to New Hope, after dragging them all over the territory yesterday.”

“No, but it’s not like these two couldn’t handle the work! They’re some of the finest in this part of the country. And that’s partly what I wanted to talk to you about, and why we’re going visiting today.”

“Visiting? Are we going to see your friend, Mr. Russell?”

“Yes, but don’t let him hear you calling him that! Lady or not, he doesn’t take kindly to fancy talk,” Pryor teased, but he quickly turned serious again. “He’s actually part of why I wanted to go ride with you this morning, away from… just to go with you and talk to you.”

Moira could sense from his tone and cryptic words that this was to be no ordinary pleasant visit. There was a sense about him that was both ominous and exciting, while still keeping her wholly unaware of what he could possibly be thinking. She knew just enough about men, and people in general, to know what his unfinished sentence would have said, though, if he’d been able to bring himself to finish it.

…
away from Gretchen
.

So Pryor wanted to speak to her alone, did he? The thought was both unnerving and thrilling. It went against her entire upbringing and social class to even be riding with him without a chaperone, let alone the fact that they were paying a call to another man, a man who owned property, without having first sent a message ahead through a servant.

It was amazing to discover that the things that once defined her, that she once held dear as the characteristics that distinguished a well-bred lady from a servant in the household, were no longer important. It hardly seemed possible that only a little more than two months ago, she’d been dining in her brother’s hall each evening, finely dressed and exquisitely fed. Only six months ago, she had overseen the preparations for her father’s birthday celebration, a week-long affair with three separate but equally extravagant parties for different varieties of guests.

Now, she had nothing of the sort, yet she was oddly at peace with her choice. There would be no gala occasions or even simple family holidays anymore. Although it pained her to think of missing her brother and any family he grew for himself, the opulence she was accustomed to at holidays wasn’t all that important. Fulfilling her obligation to her claim and surviving were all that mattered.

“We’re here, princess,” Pryor announced, interrupting Moira’s thoughts.

“Oh, please don’t call me that, I’m hardly a princess,” she answered, but stopped when she realized he was only being playful. She smirked at him before turning her attention to the property.

Her heart felt like it had dropped into her stomach at the same time that her breakfast threatened to come up. This property was nothing like Pryor’s neat, efficient farm. Instead, it appeared as though there had been an explosion of some kind, one that had scattered lumber and metal and farm implements all around the once-grassy slope in piles of abandoned debris. She recovered quickly and managed to not pass judgment, at least not in a way anyone could see.

“Yeah, I kind of thought you’d feel that way,” Pryor said as if reading her thoughts. She smiled politely in order to keep anyone else from figuring out how she felt about the sight before her.

“What happened?” she asked quietly.

“Like I said, Nathanial struggled to get his feet under him, then finally had to just walk away from it and try to build up enough capital to start fresh.”

“But that doesn’t explain the hole through the roof!”

“No, that’s just a matter of him not having the time or skills to get it finished. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. He’s not lazy, not in the least, but this kind of task is too great for some people to take on.”

“I wasn’t thinking that he’s lazy! And what are you trying to imply? Did you bring me here to frighten me out of settling my claim?”

“What?” Pryor demanded, obviously confused by her accusation.

“Let me rephrase my question so that you better understand my meaning then,” she said in a hissed whisper. “Did you bring me all this way to Mr. Russell’s land just to demonstrate that a fully grown and otherwise capable man wasn’t able to even build himself a shelter, so I shouldn’t expect to be able to either?”

“I wouldn’t do that! If you’ll just wait, you’ll understand why I brought you here. Now, come on, he’s already seen us through the window.” Pryor climbed down from his horse and tied it off on the fence rail, or what was left of it, before reaching up a hand to help Moira down.

She was not to be won over so easily, not when her pride and this man’s cunning were at stake. She slid down from the horse on her own before looking triumphantly up at Pryor. She held out her arm for him to lead the way, given that this was his acquaintance.

“Hallow, Russell!” Pryor called out, waving an open hand at the face that appeared again in the window. Nathaniel waved and smiled, beckoning them inside excitedly. He opened the door and called out to Pryor, then grabbed his hand and shook it hard. “You’re looking well for a railroad man!”

“Aye, and I’m feeling well, too! Come in, come in!” He turned and led the way into the dark cabin, lit only by the sunlight that came through the small square windows, gaping holes that still didn’t have glass, dotting the thick, rough walls.

Nathaniel kicked aside some more debris that had been piled up inside the house, shoving an unfolded stack of linens to the floor then kicking them into a corner to make room for his guests to sit. He brushed crumbs from the table and swept them into his hand, tossing them out one of the windows without looking over his shoulder to see where they landed.

“So is this your new wife you told me about?” Nathaniel asked, without waiting for proper introductions. Moira tried once again to keep a pleasant look on her face, but noticed this time, it wasn’t quite as funny to Pryor. Perhaps he, too, was growing weary of the question, and even more weary of wondering why it wasn’t real.

“No, this is Miss Brennan, another landowner. I heard you met her maid at the creek the other day, the one doing the washing?”

“Oh, of course! I remember that one, the pretty one! She didn’t talk much, she seemed kinda shy. But she sure had a pretty smile!” Nathaniel had a dreamy look on his face for a moment, but shook it off as he turned back to the two visitors. “So, you two came out riding today and stopped by? That girl must have given you my message!”

Moira noticed that everything seemed to fill Nathaniel with excitement and wonder, as every remark he made was punctuated with extra emphasis. He struck her as a man who was just happy to be anywhere, let alone in the wide open of the frontier. It seemed no wonder, then, given that he’d been working on blasting the mountains through with tunnels. The days and weeks spent in the dark of the mountain passes must have been like being buried alive; it was no wonder that he could take such joy from a simple visit in an even simpler home.

The three of them chatted pleasantly, but when Pryor noticed Moira begin to look wilted, he suggested they all head back outside to the shade of the small porch.

“I don’t know if this is the right time to speak up or not…” Pryor begin, dropping his gaze to his lap as he waited for the right words. “But I have a proposal to make for the two of you. It’s going to seem a little strange coming from me, and I hope you’ll hear me out and think it over before you answer.”

Moira saw spots before her eyes and realized she was holding her breath. She felt faint, and not just from the dusty air inside the house. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Could it be that Pryor was really suggesting what she thought he was? Now that there was no contract between them, was he passing her off to Nathaniel? Images of a lifetime serving a madman in a rundown shack flooded her brain, nearly blocking out all other sensation and preventing her from hearing his next words.

“I propose… that you, Moira, take Nathaniel’s claim, and sell your claim to him.”

For his part, Nathaniel looked confused, but not more than Moira. The relief of not being offered to yet a third stranger in marriage made her almost giddy, but Pryor’s words were equally strange. Give Nathaniel her claim? And pay even more to buy another man’s property?

“I’m not sure I understand,” Nathaniel said, speaking up before Moira had a chance to. At least she wasn’t the only one to think the whole scenario odd.

“Here’s the way I see it,” Pryor continued. “Nathaniel, we all know nothing will grow on your land. You came out to be a farmer and to grow wheat, but it won’t happen. You could spend the next twenty years harvesting nothing but the rocks on your place, and you still wouldn’t be able to plant out here. But Moira… pardon me, I mean, Miss Brennan… has no plans to farm. She’ll definitely keep a garden, and she’ll need to plant a variety of hay if she keeps any livestock, but other than that, her land is in the clear. She doesn’t have to grow so much as a blade of grass if she don’t want to!

“And as for you, Moira, have you given any thought to how you’re going to live? To building a house, and a barn? You have a wonderful plot, but not so much as a canvas and a stick to keep the rain off. So here’s what I wanted to say. Moira signs her claim over to Nathaniel, Nathaniel signs his claim over to Moira. Nathaniel keeps any farming tools he’s bought, but in exchange for the house and the barn he’s already begun and all the lumber and nails needed to finish it, Moira pays the final portion on this claim. That sets Nathaniel up to not owe on his claim, freeing up his earnings from the railroad to build himself a new house and work on his fence. Moira would simply need to improve this house, and finish the fence Nathaniel has already started.”

Pryor sat back in his chair looking very much like King Solomon, his wisdom spreading over any situation. Nathaniel and Moira both sat pondering the situation he’d presented, weighing its consequences against what each stood to gain.

It didn’t escape Moira’s notice that Pryor’s plan kept her within close distance of his property, rather than the hours-long ride to her own place. She fought back a smile, but her heart warmed at this new understanding of the man she was still getting to know.

Moira and Nathaniel shook on the deal after much deliberation. Pryor looked on as a witness to the deal, and Moira wrote up the various bills of sale that gave Nathaniel her claim outright, while she agreed to provide the rest of Nathaniel’s claim on her new property. A small part of her brain wondered if this was like her uncle’s scheme to get her brother out of the way to inherit Brennan Castle and all that went with it, but she decided that Pryor’s explanation made perfect sense. She didn’t come to America to pick up a plow, she’d come to live in the solitude that wide open spaces could provide. What need did she have of a valley of fertile soil, when she didn’t intend to work the land?

Nathaniel, on the other hand, had worked himself to the bone to try to farm his claim, and only ended up turning to hard labor to pay his bills. It only made sense that he should have the chance to succeed, the same chance everyone who’d come West was looking for.

Nathaniel invited them to stay for supper, but Moira wouldn’t think of taking his hospitality when he was so newly returned to his home. That, and she wasn’t sure she trusted the conditions enough to eat anything in the house without witnessing a thorough scrubbing for herself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my plan sooner,” Pryor said, breaking the comfortable silence between them as they rode back to his cabin. “I didn’t want to worry you by having you think you were being swindled, so I wanted you to hear it for the first time when Nathaniel did.”

“No, it’s quite all right. I admit, it was a bit of a surprise, of course, but it is a sound plan. It appears to benefit both Mr. Russell and myself equally. I am a bit concerned, though, about the state of his home. It’s not quite what I imagined living in when I spent all those weeks in a cramped ship’s cabin, to be followed by more weeks of sitting upright on a train!” Moira was teasing, but there was still a ring of truth. In this proposal, she ended up with the very house that she couldn’t envision eating a meal in, let alone living in.

“There’s nothing to worry about there, I’ll be happy to help finish the house. Nathaniel’s one of the best and has a heart of gold, I just don’t think he was prepared for homesteading. He’s a city dweller, if I remember his story correctly, and didn’t know much about building a shelter. That’s why I said the lumber had to be included. His barn is pretty sound, though. I should know, I helped him build it!”

Moira laughed, uncertain of the connection between Pryor’s own pristine farm and the piles of refuse that made up Nathaniel’s place. It hardly seemed possible that he’d had a hand in anything that even touched that farm… her farm, she realized with a surprising sense of satisfaction.

“Tell me honestly, Pryor, was it any coincidence that you requested this move?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, but in his heart he knew what she was getting at. Moira paused before answering, but finally decided to simply say it.

“I mean, does your plan have to do with keeping me closer to your farm?”

“Why, Moira. I’m surprised at you. Do you think I would really go to that trouble and have you move just so you could be closer in case of problems, or if you had need of something, or just so I could see you whenever I wanted?” His tone was light and playful, but she could sense a different truth to his words. The realization made her blush. They had not even broached the subject of their alleged contract since their first unpleasant talk, and they hadn’t truly reached a resolution. She did not feel right assuming there was anything more than supportive camaraderie between them, but she couldn’t put aside the feeling that there was more to this.

“That isn’t an answer, and you know it,” she replied confidently.

“Maybe I did want you to be closer. Does that upset you?”

“No,” she answered, realizing that it was not at all a lie. “Is that why you did it?”

“Well, it really does make perfect sense for the two of you to move. If you happen to be my neighbor, then that’s just a good thing.”

Moira was surprised at how crestfallen she was by his answer. It was not a resounding declaration of anything more than convenience, let alone affection. Pryor noticed that she had not answered, and stole a quick glance at her. The look of hurt he saw unnerved him, and gave him something close to hope.

“Of course, there’s always that contract…” he said, but left the rest of his sentence hanging in the space between them. Moira didn’t look up right away, giving herself time to make sure she’d heard him correctly.

“Yes, I suppose there is,” she answered, still looking down.

“And if we saw it through, then our properties would be joined, too.”

At that, Moira did turn up and look at Pryor sharply, a fresh anger burning behind her eyes. “So that’s what this was all about! You led me astray and betrayed your own friend to get a bigger farm? First, I’m just a stranger you brought out here to work and give you children, and then, I’m just a piece of property? No, thank you!”

She spurred her horse forward, ignoring Pryor’s cries behind her as he shouted her name over and over. She couldn’t hear it over the sound of the wind rushing past her ears, a blessed sound that she hadn’t heard in too long, not since taking her own beloved horse for their last ride. The wind was even more welcomed as it pushed away the sound of Pryor’s voice, and almost pushed away the memory of his words.

Even as an accomplished horsewoman, Moira had trouble controlling the horse. As a draft animal, it never had the opportunity to run in a wide-open, unfettered way, so when Moira gave the command the animal charged forward, free from the weight of a wagon or a plot, eager to release the pent up energy in its capable muscles. It startled her how fast the horse took off, and without a saddle or normal bridle and reins, she had trouble staying upright. She held fast with her legs though, determined to put Pryor and his conniving attempts at gaining more land through trickery and flattery behind her.

With one final burst of speed, Moira and the horse surged forward, heading for the creek and intent on putting distance between the cabin and herself. She couldn’t hear Pryor anymore and knew he’d finally given up and turned toward his cabin. She could only hope that he’d realized how wrong he was about the potential for his arrangement. She’d never marry him, not even if he begged her. Not even if he signed over his own land… why should she be the one to bring property to a marriage and then turn it over to her husband? It was Brennan and Macomby all over again.

The sound of Moira’s own scream startled her, ripping her from her miserable thoughts. The horse stalled beneath her, unsure of itself as it reached the water’s edge. Rather than sail over the gently rushing water, the horse stopped, sending Moira careening over its shoulder and landing with a sharp crack in the water, her head opened by the edge of a rock. The water was freezing cold and almost enough to snap her out of the darkness of pain that had wrapped around her, but the blackness quickly took over.

When she opened her eyes some time later, a heavy cloth pressed over her forehead prevented her from seeing. Moira couldn’t tell where she was, other than from the comforting and already familiar smell of fresh soap coming from the pillow cover. She knew she was in Pryor’s cabin, but couldn’t remember what had happened or how she’d gotten there. She moved to take Gretchen’s hand off her eyes, and was surprised to feel a rough, work worn hand there instead.

“Oh, no, you don’t, don’t try to move just yet. You’ve broken something, to be sure,” Pryor said gently. He peeled back the cloth to let a little bit of lamp light shine on her face, but even that made her squint her eyes against the harsh glare. A pounding pain in her head immediately made her want to throw up, and she pressed her free hand to her stomach to calm the feeling. Her other hand was bound against her side with strips of cloth, which only dulled the stabbing pain she now felt in her shoulder.

“What happened?” she tried to ask, but her voice was raspy from thirst.

“You ran away from me, that’s what happened,” he chided, but there was kindness in his voice, most likely brought on from the relief of hearing Moira speak and seeing her open her eyes. “Your horse threw you at the water’s edge, and you hit your head. It seems you’ve broken your collar bone, too. But, look, now you have a scar like mine!”

He pushed back the hair over his forehead to show the stitches that still held him together, then laughed. “But don’t worry, yours didn’t require any needlework, thank goodness. When I carried you inside, I’m sorry to say your maid fainted dead away at the sight of your blood. She’d have been useless if you’d needed stitching, and I think you know how my sewing skills compare to yours. Without my clumsy fingers tying you in knots, I dare say your scar is going to be a lot fairer than mine.”

“Tis some small comfort to know I wasn’t disfigured by my own stupidity,” she replied, closing her eyes again and adjusting to the feelings of pain and sickness. She tried to sit up suddenly with a gasp, but Pryor held her good shoulder fast. “Wait, you said Gretchen fainted? Where is she, is she all right?”

“She’s fine. She recovered quickly, and she even apologized for being helpless when you needed her. We fixed her a bed of blankets in the front room so she wouldn’t shake you during the night.” Pryor spoke again, softly, not wanting to upset or hurt her. “Why did you run away?”

“I should think it would be obvious, at least from a lady who’s accustomed to having men decide what will happen to her.”

“Do you mean your land?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want your land, Moira. I only said that because I wanted you to know that you would have my land if we were married. Remember, you agreed to take a plot that won’t grow anything, and I wanted you to know that anything I harvest becomes yours, too, if we married, that is. I would never take something from you.”

Moira was quiet as tears pricked at her eyes. “You already have, Pryor. You took my heart, and I certainly did not intend for you to have it.”

“Then I shall have to return it to you, just to keep you happy.” Moira opened her eyes a crack and looked at him, and saw that he was deadly serious. “Yes, if that’s what it takes to keep you happy, I will leave you alone.”

“And if I don’t want to be alone?”

“Then that will have to be for you to decide. But be quick. I’ve been alone, for a long time even, and after a while, you learn how to get by. You won’t ever be happy and you won’t ever thrive, but you’ll learn how to manage it all in solitude.” Pryor smiled thinly, explaining more in those few words than a lifetime of her previous understanding about people and want had ever done.

They stayed in the relative darkness of the cabin’s room, the lamp and a lingering moonlight providing more than enough light to cover the shy glances on their faces.

“I don’t want to be alone, Pryor. But more than that, I don’t want to be without you. I had more than enough chances to marry if that’s all I wanted, but it wasn’t enough for me. I would rather be alone like you say than be bound to the wrong man. And somehow, I just know you’re the right man.”

“Do you really mean that? You would go through with the contract?”

“No, not for a minute.” Pryor looked crestfallen before Moira continued, “I would never marry you because you paid a broker’s fee and sent me a piece of paper. But I will marry you because you are kind, and honorable, and giving to others. You think of everyone else before yourself, and yet, you’ve still made yourself the richest man in the territory by being content with what you have. That is why I will marry you, not because of an agreement I don’t even remember entering into.”

Pryor smiled broadly before surpassing his grin. “Excuse me, I have to see to something.”

He got abruptly and left the room, and only seconds later, Moira heard the front door of the cabin open and close. Thundering footsteps on the porch told her that Pryor had quite literally just run away. She knit her brow in confusion but quickly recoiled from the pain where a thin scab had already formed. She pressed her hand to the wound to make sure it hadn’t opened, but shuddered when an unholy howl pierced the night outside her window. Her fear quickly turned to quiet laughter when she realized the sound was coming from Pryor, whose long note of joy turned into shouts of happiness.