Josie: Bride of New Mexico (American Mail-Order Bride 47) (3 page)

“So,” Lessie said to Richard, “which of us drew the short straw and is assigned to
you
, Mr. Cannon?”

At this, Adam nearly burst into laughter. Lessie had a sharp sense of humor.

But it was her sister, Josie, whose grin nearly knocked him to his knees.

How would he know which sister is his best match?

He honestly thought he’d just know… he’d look at their two faces and he’d
know
. Just like Grandfather and Grandmother’s larger-than-life romance story. But that option was off the table.

Because he’d spent the requisite minutes in the company of the young ladies, and unlike Grandfather, he didn’t
just
know
.

To his surprise, Josie raised one eyebrow, held his gaze and spoke. “I’m sorry, sir. My sister doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind.”

Yes, he could see that.

The girls looked alike, but they sure didn’t sound alike. Sure, their voices were very similar, but Josie wasn’t nearly the dominant personality. But her
smile…

A man could become very accustomed to a smile that quickened his pulse and warmed his heart.

Their eyes met again, and as if he’d fallen into a long, straight mine shaft, he fell. The sensation of losing great altitude registered in his belly.

Was this what Grandfather had described?

That sense of rightness?

To save himself, to put solid ground beneath his feet, so to speak, Adam blinked, lowered his gaze, and became aware of Josie’s outspoken sister engaging Richard once more. The two were more alike than they knew.

Richard needed a woman who wouldn’t hesitate to speak her mind, to tell him what she thought.

As Josie had disclosed, Lessie made no bones about expressing herself.

“And you?” he asked Josie. “Do you speak your mind?”

“Often.”

That made him smile broadly. What would it be like to elicit strong emotion in this young woman? To see her angry, frustrated, determined? Would passionate conversation with her draw him to her even more?

If Lessie and Richard seemed a match made in heaven, did that imply, by default, that Josie and he were as well?

He couldn’t deny how drawn he was to Josie and her shy smiles. Her soft hello still resonated in his heart. It almost felt like she’d carved her initials there.

In that moment, he knew. He simply
knew
.

Right or wrong, for worse or for better, his heart had chosen. And he didn’t know why.

Adam took Josie’s hand and the first brush of skin upon skin jolted him with a powerful awareness that underscored his decision.

He slipped her little hand through the bend in his elbow. Claiming her. “I do believe, Miss Josie Anne Hadley, you’re meant to be mine.”

The smile Josie gave him— in reward? In answer?— seared him sharp and fast. Almost as if he’d known this woman, had been courting her, and now asked if she might have an interest in him, might consider the prospects of marriage…

And she’d accepted him.

His statement had felt, to him at least, like a proposal of marriage.

She tightened her hand upon his arm, the only kind of hug proper for her to give him in public, though as far as he was concerned, they were now engaged to be married.

Lessie, on the other hand, said something about having definitely drawn the short straw.

But Richard laughed— and Richard had been laughing so seldom in the previous weeks and months, since the trouble had begun.

It appeared that Lessie was, already, an ideal match for Richard.

“Perhaps you’re correct, Miss Hadley.” Richard said to Lessie as he took her bundle to carry it for her. “Yet it appears I’ve received exactly what I wished for.”

And Adam knew, with a spark of delight, that
Josie was his.

Chapter Three

I do believe, Miss Josie Anne Hadley, you’re meant to be mine.

Josie still heard the power of handsome Adam Taylor’s claim on her echoing through her head and her heart.

She hadn’t thought overmuch about how this part would work out, how someone might determine who belonged to who. Her sister had sparred with Richard, something about who drew the short straw. Lessie had obviously enjoyed going toe to toe with Mr. Richard Cannon.

But Josie simply couldn’t believe the more handsome of the two, courtly Mr. Adam Taylor, had chosen
her
.

That simple pairing off had not been the kind of arrangement where Josie had to take Lessie’s leavings. How had it worked out that Josie felt as though she’d been handed the greatest honor of all… and apparently Lessie did, too?

It seemed not only too good to be true, but overwhelming.

Having never been courted, Mr. Taylor’s undivided attention and the intensity of interest felt more than a bit overwhelming.

How was a woman like her, with zero experience, to manage?

Lessie could easily manage Mr. Taylor… but her sister was either in her element with Mr. Cannon— and perfectly delighted with the challenge he presented— or she’d been stuck with a sour-tempered groom.

Josie didn’t know which.

She hesitated, just for a moment. But Mr. Taylor watched her with his bright blue eyes and offered his arm.

She had heard Lessie already say she’d drawn the short straw, hadn’t she? Didn’t that mean her lot had been cast? That either Richard Cannon had chosen her or she’d chosen him?

Oh, she could demand the conversation cease and insist upon an answer from her three companions. But that seemed impossible. Especially for the likes of her.

No— Lessie was the one who found it easy to say all that lingered on her mind. If Lessie hadn’t wanted to be chosen by Mr. Cannon, she would have said so. Of that Josie was most certain.

So she did what was expected of her and accepted Mr. Taylor’s arm.

Josie’s nervousness only increased as the minutes passed.

Her husband-to-be and his intense gaze seemed to never leave her.

The men offered a meal, but she couldn’t eat, not with her whole body seeming to vibrate. The kind men offered pretty new dresses, and while she would have enjoyed the pleasure immensely, Lessie turned them down.

But by the way Mr. Adam Taylor looked at her, one thing was immensely clear. No new dress would make an ounce of difference.

Her groom looked at a poor girl dressed in rags and didn’t so much as notice. He merely saw
her
. As if she was a princess. As if they’d courted for years and he’d fallen in love with her and then proposed marriage.

And in her nervousness, it became a day of many firsts.

The first man who looked at her and saw only her.

The first time she’d been chosen.

A first carriage ride.

A first wedding ceremony— and she prayed it would be her last.

A first ring, slipped onto her finger with only the slightest bit of wiggle room.

A first kiss.

A new last name.

A first time witnessing her sister’s marriage.

A first time holding her husband’s hand.

And the startling realization that she may well be, for the first time in her life, falling just a little bit in love.

Josie
must
have heard wrong.

Granted, she felt as though everything was happening too quickly, like she’d been swept downstream in a current too strong to disengage. The wedding ceremonies and now this ride in the carriage had brought them back to Union Station.

With a tenderness and solicitousness Josie had begun associating with Adam, he’d helped her from the carriage. His fingers still rested on her back in the way she’d seen so any husbands escort their wives.

He’d spoken, in answer to Lessie’s question. “It’s regrettable, dear sister, but my wife and I must depart.”

Josie’s ears rang, her head buzzed like an overpopulated beehive, and she feared she’d faint.

Depart?

The October sun scorched her through her pale dress, so uncomfortably hot. Surely she
had not
heard correctly.

Leaving for
New Mexico Territory
, with her stranger of a husband, while Lessie remained here?

Josie couldn’t understand. Perspiration trickled down her back, and soaked through her shift and drawers.

Lessie fired question after question at the men, but all Josie could do was blink. And swallow. And fight to remain upright.

Hadn’t she just promised to live in holy matrimony with this man, Mr. Taylor? How could she do that if she refused to travel with him?

What solid reason did she have to refuse? Other than her own personal, willful intentions to remain with her sister?

Mr. Cannon, Lessie’s new husband spoke. “This opportunity presented itself just yesterday. The Taylors will be away only a short while.”

Lessie whirled on Adam. “How short a time? How long will you be away?”

“A matter of weeks. I hope to have the family together for the holidays.”

She’d return by Christmas.

Not so long… but it felt like ages.

Or like a prison sentence?

How could she have, just minutes ago, wished she had time alone with this new husband to speak with him, to come to know him as a person? And now her wish was granted in the worst possible of ways.

Josie drew in great draughts of air, darkness teased around the periphery of her vision.

Don’t faint.
Don’t faint.

“I will have your word of honor,
” Lessie said to Adam,
“that you’ll look out for my sister. Josie has never been on her own. You must ensure she is comfortable, safe, protected.”

“I vow I will.” Adam’s deep voice resonated with sincerity, with a promise she knew he’d keep. Reassurance eased her panic, chased the sense of overwhelming dread far away.

Richard, who’d not had much to say, put a hand to Lessie’s back. “
You’re right, my dear. We,
I
hadn’t warned you adequately, and for that I apologize.”

Josie noted the hostility and tension in her sister’s expression ease. She smiled, so sadly, that Josie wanted to weep. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”

Most of her angst and pain was for her sister—

How could she leave her sister
now
?

Without conscious thought, Josie sought Adam’s face. She still didn’t understand why they were leaving for New Mexico Territory— especially today. She and Lessie had just arrived.

Richard nudged Lessie.
“Please, say goodbye to your sister. I promise she is in excellent hands with her
husband. You may write daily, send wires almost as often.”

Lessie’s frown faded.
“You mean it?”

“I mean it.”

In that moment, Josie knew her sister was in as good a place as she, herself. Lessie would be all right. Richard treated outspoken Lessie with patience… and nothing could have pleased Josie more.

And Josie witnessed much of the same compassion and tenderness in Adam Taylor’s face, in his
gentleness as he said, “I’ve prepared for this, my dear. I have stationery and fountain pens in our rail car. I knew you’d want to write your sister, perhaps share with her the interesting sights, your impressions of the desert, perhaps anecdotes of the journey.”