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

He couldn’t very well sit there and let a beautiful, refined woman like Wendy Weatherford suffer. But when the offer of marriage burst from Travis’s lips, he surprised even himself. He was in no position to get married, what with his job in limbo. But dammit, Cody was a fool and a scalawag for trying to back out of marriage after coercing a woman all the way out to Haskell like that. He wasn’t going to stand by and let the poor woman cry.

He didn’t expect everyone on the platform to freeze and drop their jaws like he’d insulted Elizabeth Haskell.

“I’ll marry you,” he repeated, confidence and the determination that he was doing the right thing growing with every second. “I’d be honored to.”

Nothing but blinks and startled looks followed.

Travis ignored the others, ignored Cody—even though his brother looked a shade more horrified than the rest. He turned to Wendy and said, “It’s the least I could do. I’d hate to see you in a difficult spot. Cody is my brother and my responsibility. And to tell you the truth—” He glanced around at his startled friends. “—I’ve been thinking it’s about time I look for a good woman to settle down with.”

In fact, he hadn’t thought any such thing, but it sounded like the right thing to say to a woman whose eyes had gone glassy with fear at the prospect of being stranded.

Sure enough, with a quick intake of breath, Wendy cooled her flushed cheeks with the back of her gloved hand. Travis smiled at the gesture. It was elegant, feminine. Wendy had long fingers that appeared slender, even with gloves. The barest hint of caramel-brown skin peeked out between the bottom of her glove and the end of her sleeve. That tiny sight of wrist sent his pulse racing—which was as much of a surprise as anything else.

“You’re very kind, Mr.…Mr. Montrose.” She hesitated over his name, darting a glance to Cody. Cody looked as though he’d swallowed a wasp but couldn’t pry his lips apart to spit it out. “But I couldn’t possibly impose upon you,” Wendy went on.

“Nonsense.” Travis smiled. Ladies liked smiles, didn’t they? “It would be my pleasure.”

Cody cleared his throat so loud they were like to hear it a hundred miles away in Culpepper. Travis pivoted to narrow his eyes at him. Cody shook his head. Well, his little brother could shake his head all he wanted. It was his mess that Travis intended to clean up. It was always his messes Travis found himself cleaning.

To prove his point, Travis dropped to one knee, setting Wendy’s box and carpetbag on the platform. He reached for one of her gloved hands. She jumped as he took it.

“Miss Wendy Weatherford, would you do me the great honor of allowing me to call you my wife, to take your hand in marriage so that I might protect and shelter you?”

Mrs. Evans sucked in a breath and whispered something full of awe that Travis couldn’t quite make out. Mr. Garrett hummed in delighted surprise. Cody whispered, “No, Travis, don’t.”

Wendy pressed her free hand to the delicate pleats on the front of her high-necked gown. “Why, I…” She paused with her mouth open and stared down at Travis.

She had lovely eyes—so dark they were like a fathomless, moonless night. Her lips were full and sensuous. Her nose was straight and dainty. But it was her hand trembling in his that sent Travis’s heart thumping against his ribs. She was afraid.

He met her eyes, hoping she could see in them that she had nothing to fear as long as he had a say in it. She must have seen something, because her mouth relaxed and the light in her eyes warmed.

“Yes, Mr. Montrose. I will marry you.”

Travis had no idea how hopeful he’d been of her answer until a burst of warmth filled his chest. He stood, still holding her hand, and nodded. “That’s just fine.” He gave her hand a final squeeze before stooping to pick up her things. “I guess we should go to the church then.”

The grip of silence that had come over everyone else broke all at once.

“I suppose so,” Mr. Garrett chuckled.

“I don’t know if Rev. Pickering is ready for a wedding between Miss Weatherford and
Travis
Montrose,” Mrs. Evans fretted. “Though I don’t suppose it makes much difference since he has enough blank marriage certificates waiting to be filed as any courthouse in Wyoming.”

“I don’t suppose it will make a difference at all,” Mr. Garrett smiled. He extended an arm to Wendy. “Right this way, Miss Weatherford.”

As Mr. Garrett led a bewildered Wendy off the train platform, Cody rounded on Travis, whispering, “You can’t do this.”

“I can and I will.” Travis scowled as he pushed past his brother.

Cody grabbed his arm to stop him. “You aren’t ready to get married. What about Bonneville?”

“He has nothing to do with my personal life,” Travis said, pushing on. “That job of his can be done by a married man just as well as a single one.”

Cody kept on his heels. “You live in the bunkhouse. You don’t have a house to put her in.”

Travis stopped and wheeled around to face him. “You’ve got your house. We’ll move in there until—”

“No,” Cody shouted, loud enough for Mrs. Evans, Mrs. Garrett, and Wendy to hear him. They stopped, turning to see what the trouble was. Cody sent them a shaky smile before rounding on Travis with full intensity. “That’s
my
house. I got it fair and square.”

“You were given that house because Mr. Haskell expected you to bring a bride into it,” Travis reminded him.

“Then I will.” He broke away from Travis and marched over to Mrs. Evans and Mr. Garrett. “I want you to send away for another bride for me,” he demanded. “Someone less… someone more…” He stared at Wendy. At least he had the decency to look ashamed of himself as he did.

Travis had had enough of his brother’s antics. He marched past him to take his place by Wendy’s side.

“Well, then, Cody.” Mr. Garrett cleared his throat. “We’ll have to talk about sending for another young woman for you later.”

“If at all,” Mrs. Evans mumbled. When Cody gaped at her, looking stricken, she went on with, “Well, you haven’t exactly endeared yourself to us with these shenanigans, have you?”

“But I… It wasn’t my fault that she’s a…”

Travis took one step toward his brother with a glare so fierce it shut Cody up and nearly made him tumble over backwards. Wendy lowered her eyes, which only made Travis want to sock Cody in the eye even more. He would have if he wasn’t carrying Wendy’s things.

“Come on,” Travis said, marching back to Wendy. He shook his shoulders and tried again in a gentler tone. “I am deeply sorry for my idiot brother. I would be proud to escort you to the church now.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Montrose.” Wendy smiled.

“I’ll take those.” Mr. Garrett stepped up to Travis and took Wendy’s box and carpetbag. “Where should I put them?”

They had gone a few more steps down the road, but were forced to stop again. At this rate, it would take them weeks to get to the altar.

Travis sighed. “Cody does have a point. I live in the bunk house at Paradise Ranch right now, but I’ll be starting a new job working for Mr. Rex Bonneville soon. Bonneville’s offered me a cabin on his ranch, but it’s not ready yet.”

“A cabin on a ranch?” Wendy’s voice wavered.

“You’re welcome to stay at the hotel, free of charge, until you work things out,” Mr. Garrett offered.

Wendy practically sagged with relief. As grateful as Travis was, her reaction didn’t sit well with him. With her pretty dress, fancy hat, and gloves, she didn’t exactly look like she’d be at home living on a ranch. “That’s right kind of you, Mr. Garrett,” he said anyhow.

“It’s the least I could do,” Mr. Garrett replied in a drawl, casting a frown over his shoulder at Cody.

“I’ll rush over to the hotel right now and let Mr. Gunn know,” Mrs. Evans said. “And I’m sure he’s arranged another bouquet for Miss Weatherford here, like he did with Eden. I’ll meet you at the church.”

“Me too.” Mr. Garrett nodded. He lifted the baggage in his hands. “Since you’re staying at the hotel, I’ll take these over there and get them settled. I’ll see to your other things too. Do you have a baggage ticket?”

“I do.” Wendy fished in her pocket and handed Mr. Garrett a ticket.

Mr. Garrett took it with his thumb and forefinger as he held her box with three fingers, then nodded and walked off.

That left Travis and Wendy alone with Cody. Frankly, at that moment, Travis couldn’t stand the sight of his brother. “Are you coming to witness the ceremony?” he asked, unsure of what he wanted the answer to be.

Cody worked his jaw wordlessly for a few minutes, glancing from Travis to Wendy and back, then said, “I should probably get back to the ranch and let Franklin and Howard know what’s going on.”

He spoke so fast and turned tail to run with such lightning speed that Travis couldn’t do anything but shake his head at the dust Cody had stirred up.

Promising to give his brother the tongue-lashing of his life—and maybe a few broken ribs while he was at it—Travis turned back to Wendy and said, “Let’s go get married.”

Chapter Three

From the moment Mr. Cody Montrose declared that he wouldn’t have her, Wendy’s mind had slipped into a fuzzy, dream-like state of unreality. Her heart lurched in her chest when Mr. Travis Montrose dropped to one knee to propose to her. And though she heard every word that was spoken from that startling turn of events to the moment she found herself standing at the altar in Haskell's small but beautiful church, she wasn’t convinced it was all actually happening to her.

It wasn’t until the sympathetic young Rev. Pickering declared, “You may kiss the bride,” that Wendy fully woke up.

She held in a gasp as Travis cleared his throat and faced her. When had he taken her hand? For that matter, when had she acquired a bouquet of russet and yellow chrysanthemums? It was all wrong, and yet…

“I’ll take that,” Mrs. Evans whispered, and skipped forward to take the bouquet from her.

Travis took Wendy’s other hand, and before she could think fast enough to question kissing a man she’d met less than an hour ago, he leaned forward and brought his lips to hers.

It was a sweet, gentle kiss. The two of them were close to the same height, so there was no bending or lifting on tip-toes. Travis had an honest, clean scent to him, and the warmth of his stubbly cheek close to hers sent flutters through her gut. She blinked rapidly as he stepped back, wondering where that silly reaction came from. But no, she knew. This man had just saved her from embarrassment and uncertainty. He’d offered her a life and a name at a moment when all seemed lost.

Although it had yet to be determined if what he’d offered was a trip out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“There you go.” Mr. Garrett nodded and thumped Travis on the back. “I can’t say this is the way I thought things would unfold when I woke up this morning, but may I wish you great happiness.”

“Thank you, Mr. Garrett,” Wendy answered with a modest nod.

“The hotel is at your disposal,” he went on. “But you’ll have to excuse me. School will be getting out soon, and I’m sure Olivia will want to hear all about this.”

“And if I don’t ride out to Paradise Ranch to fill Virginia in right away, she’ll scold me six ways from Sunday as soon as she finds out,” Mrs. Evans added. She stepped forward to return Wendy’s bouquet and to kiss her cheek. “Welcome to Haskell, Mrs. Montrose.”

“I… Thank you.” That was the best Wendy could manage before Mr. Garrett and Mrs. Evans headed out.

“Well, that’s it,” Rev. Pickering said. “The certificates have all been signed and witnessed, the vows have been said. You’re married.” He grinned, nodded, then added, “Excuse me, I need to finish writing this Sunday’s sermon before baseball practice this evening.”

Wendy latched onto the only thing her bewildered brain could grasp at that moment. “Baseball?”

Travis—the only one left standing at the front of the church with her—offered his arm. Wendy hesitantly took it, and as they began their march down the aisle to the church door and out into the nippy autumn afternoon, he explained, “Haskell is crazy about baseball. The season is mostly over now, as you can imagine, but we’ve got a couple more games to play. This Sunday, it’s the West Side Wolverines against the Haskell Hawks.”

“Do you play?”

He winced and rubbed his neck. “Well, sort of. Every able-bodied man in Haskell and the surrounding area plays. I’ve been working for Howard Haskell for the past few years, so I’ve been playing for the Hawks. But I’m in the process of accepting a position as manager of Rex Bonneville’s ranch, so I guess that means I’ll be playing for the Bonneville Bears next year.” He blew out a low whistle. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Is that a problem?” Wendy asked.

“Not really,” he answered in such a way that suggested it was. “It’s just that I don’t like the way their team captain runs things.”

“But you’re about to start a new job working for this man Bonneville, correct?”

“As soon as we work out the final details, yes.” Travis nodded to a field off to their left rather than continuing to talk about his job. “Come on, I’ll walk you past the baseball field so you can see we mean business.”

From rejection to rescue to marriage to baseball. Wendy was certainly having a hard time keeping up. The afternoon was sunny, if crisp, and the town had a certain charm about it that grew as Travis walked her the long way around to The Cattleman Hotel. The baseball field was an impressive sight, but her trained eye was more interested in the heart of the town, or more specifically, the shops that lined the main street. Haskell had a bank, a mercantile, several leather goods shops, and a cooper, but she didn’t see a single dress shop or tailor, or even a haberdasher. Her chest stirred with all of her old dreams of owning a dress shop. What if—

No, she was committed to giving all that up to be a good wife…but Haskell looked as though it could use her services. Not only that, although the residents of the town who they passed gave her curious looks, none of them were close to being as contemptuous as the man from the train. After the strangeness of the last few hours, dreams were in the air.

“Are you hungry?” Travis asked as they stepped up onto the tidy, white-painted porch in front of the hotel.

His question brought her attention to just how hungry she was. “Yes,” she breathed out in relief. “I confess, I’m starved.”

Travis smiled and nodded. “It’s a little early for supper and a little late for lunch, but I bet the hotel has something cooking.”

He reached across to place his free hand over hers in the crook of his arm. The gesture was sweet and attentive, but it brought another truth crashing down on her. Heavens above, she’d just married this man, and she didn’t know a thing about him. Not that she knew much about Cody, but at least Mrs. Breashears had given her some information about him.

Before she could do anything about it, they swept into the hotel’s expansive lobby. A white-haired gentleman, who looked so distinguished in his hotel uniform that he was almost out of place, stepped away from a tall front desk and came to meet them.

“Travis.” He nodded, then turned a smile to Wendy. “And you must be Wendy Weatherford.”

Wendy dropped Travis’s arm to take the white-haired gentleman’s offered hand.

“Afternoon, Gunn.” Travis nodded to the man. “And it’s Wendy Montrose now.”

Travis seemed perfectly at ease with Mr. Gunn, smiling at him as though he was a friend. That was enough of an endorsement for Wendy. She smiled too. “Mr. Gunn?”

“Theophilus Gunn, at your service,” the white-haired man nodded. “Mr. Garrett stopped by to tell me all about you. I’m the manager of the hotel, and I’ve been instructed to provide whatever you need, gratis.”

Astonished, Wendy’s eyes flew wide. She pressed a hand to her chest and said a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

“Your luggage has been settled in a room upstairs,” Mr. Gunn went on, “but I bet you’re famished.”

“We are,” Travis answered. “Is it too early for supper?”

“Not at all, not at all. Right this way.”

Mr. Gunn took them through the lobby to an exquisitely decorated dining room. A few people in what looked like hotel uniforms stared curiously at them. Mr. Gunn seated them at a table beside a sunny window, assuring them supper would be right out. Wendy took the whole thing in, not quite believing it. From rejection to rescue to marriage to baseball to first class accommodations in a dazzling hotel, free of charge. What on earth would the day bring next?

Travis leaned across the table and whispered, “What does ‘gratis’ mean?”

Wendy pulled her scattered thoughts back into her head and met Travis’s eyes. “It means free of charge.” Did he really not know?

She studied him anew. He wore work clothes. His simple shirt was worn nearly all the way through at the elbows. The collar of a serviceable pair of long-johns peeked out at the top. His trousers were dirty around the cuffs, and his boots looked as though they’d seen better days. But he was scrubbed with just a hint of beard, and his hair was short and combed. He sat back, surprise lighting his face at her explanation of ‘gratis,’ but she had the uncomfortable feeling that her new husband was uneducated.

Not that she had degrees from any college other than the school of life. She scolded herself for her prejudice, but she had made it a point to read extensively to educate herself.

“Sometimes I wonder how Mr. Garrett can afford to be so kind,” Travis said, shaking his head with an amused grin. “He came out here ten years or so ago on the Oregon Trail. That’s where he met his wife, Olivia, who runs the school in town.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.” Travis nodded. “He started the hotel and the saloon and paid for half the school, along with Howard and Virginia.”

“They’re ranchers?”

“Brother and sister,” Travis confirmed. “Howard is my boss. Was my boss. Anyhow, Mr. Garrett also owns Hurst Home, but you probably knew that already.”

“I did,” Wendy said, putting two and two together. “I’m extremely grateful for that.”

“Yes, well, nobody is really sure where Charlie Garrett came by all that money, though the current theory is that he was a gambler and a bounder until he met Olivia, and she set him straight.”

“I see.”

Before Wendy could finish her simple answer, Travis’s expression shifted, and his posture with it. “So what were you doing in Hurst Home anyhow?” His blunt question was immediately followed by a deep blush and a stuttering follow-up of, “Oh, gosh, sorry. That didn’t come out right at all. It’s just that Cody’s been so close-lipped. I don’t know anything about you.” His expression slipped to a far-off look, as if he had just realized he was married to a stranger.

Wendy knew the feeling too well. “Evidently Mrs. Breashears didn’t mention very much to your brother in the first place,” she attempted to be light-hearted, “seeing as he wasn’t even aware of my ethnicity.”

A wry grin tweaked the corner of Travis’s mouth. It wasn’t dismissive or anything that would indicate he disapproved. In fact, it was almost conspiratorial, as though they were in on some great caper together. Wendy’s heart pumped warmth and hope through her.

“Cody’s not the sharpest tack in the box.” Travis shook his head and sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Honestly, I had a bad feeling something would go wrong with this marriage idea he had. I’m just glad I was able to step in.”

“Are you?” She winced and bit her lip at the sauce in her retort.

Fortunately for her, Travis’s grin widened. “So far, so good,” he said. “Although I reckon we’ve got a thing or two to work out.”

“Indeed we have.” Wendy arched a brow.

Travis sat back in his chair, studying her with an air of thought. He might not be educated, but with eyes as sharp as his, he was certainly thoughtful. He had lovely eyes, too—hazel with long lashes and a look of steadiness to them. In fact, the more she looked at him, the handsomer he was. She could have done much worse.

“For you, Mrs. Montrose.” Mr. Gunn arrived at the side of their table, a uniformed assistant with a tray in tow. It took Wendy a moment to realize he was referring to her. Mrs. Montrose. “I hope you enjoy steak. For obvious reasons, we are well-stocked with the finest steaks in the country.”

Mr. Gunn set a plate heaping in front of Wendy. It contained the most succulent steak she had ever seen, along with sides of potatoes, greens, and cornbread, all smothered in sauces that would have made the finest chefs in Nashville jealous. She dug in as daintily as she could, savoring each bite. Truly, she was dreaming. No one had ever served her such a divine meal.

They were halfway through devouring the feast in silence before Travis finally said, “So you didn’t answer my question before. What brought you to Hurst Home?” Since Wendy was in the middle of chewing, he added, “I mean, it seems only right that I should know a bit about my wife, other than that she’s the snappiest dresser I’ve ever met.”

She giggled at the compliment and swallowed. “I was at Hurst Home because I had nowhere else to go.”

Travis nodded, expression growing serious. “That’s the primary reason women end up there, from what I understand.” He glanced at his plate, and cut another bite of steak as he said, “I also understand that many of the women there have been…mistreated.” His eyes flickered up to meet hers.

The depth of protectiveness in Travis’s gaze squeezed at Wendy’s heart. He didn’t know her. He was so different from her. How could he feel that kind of responsibility for her so fast?

“Not me.” She tried to set him at ease with a smile. Memory washed back over her, and she tilted her head to the side. “Although I suppose the possibility was there.”

“Oh?” He took a bite of steak, encouraging her to go on with a look.

Wendy cleared her throat, wondering how to proceed. “I was born a slave,” she admitted right off. “But as you must know, we were all freed when I was barely more than a girl. My mother’s people settled in Memphis, so we went there. Mama had worked as a seamstress on the plantation, and she taught me everything I knew. We both went to work for a well-known dressmaker.”

Travis nodded, considering her words. “It’s admirable that you would put your skills to good use to earn a living.”