The Anonymous Bride (22 page)

She rounded the corner of the house just in time to see someone duck behind the Texas azalea bush that grew almost below the parlor window. Jack darted back against the rear of the house and then peeked around the corner. She had planned to stop and listen in that very spot before getting her treat. No bribe was going to make her miss out on hearing the hullabaloo that was sure to occur now that another bride had arrived.

Jack hunkered down and scurried around the corner of the house. Keeping low and behind the bush, she tiptoed to the edge of the shrub. Looking through the leaves, she recognized Jenny Evans, the lady newspaper owner. She must be out to get a story, and Jack knew she was about to get a good one. The brides had been the talk of the town when there were only two of them. What would people say now that another one had arrived?

Her ma’s lacy curtains fluttered through the open window. If she stayed on this side of the bush, she was certain to miss out on most of the conversation that was sure to drift out. Miss Evans peeked up and through the window, then ducked back down and scribbled something on her pad of paper.

Jack scowled and bit the inside of her cheek. “Humbug.”

Well, if Miss Evans could spy on the brides, so could she. As quick as a greased pig, she dashed around the bush and slid up against the house. Miss Evans gasped and covered her mouth with one hand while holding her notepad against her chest with the other. Her flaring nostrils and wide eyes reminded Jack of a spooked horse.

She leaned toward the woman and whispered, “What’cha doing?”

Miss Evans’s mouth worked as if she’d swallowed a bug, but nothing came out. She patted her chest and seemed to be trying to breathe normally. Jack grinned, knowing she’d scared the woman half to death.

After taking a few moments to compose herself, Miss Evans leaned toward Jack. “I’m just trying to get a story for my paper,” she whispered. “I asked to sit in on the discussion between the men and the brides, but the marshal refused. What else could I do?”

The woman’s soft breath tickled the edge of Jack’s ear, and she rubbed it. “Spy on them, I guess.” She grinned, and Miss Evans smiled back.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Miss Evans held out her hand. “Deal?”

Jack pressed her back against the side of the house and eyed the woman. “I won’t tell if you give me twenty cents,” she whispered.

Miss Evans’s brows shot up, and her mouth twitched. Jack frowned. Was she laughing at her?

“I like enterprising people.” She dug around in her skirt pocket, pulled out two dimes, and handed them to Jack. “Deal.”

***

Luke paced the parlor, waiting for the women to come downstairs while his cousins argued over the event.

“I told you this was a bad idea when you first thought it up, didn’t I?” Mark glared at his brother.

Garrett curled his lip. “If you were so all fired against it, why did you write to those two brides?”

Mark fell back against his chair and ran his hand through his curly blond hair. “I don’t know. You made it sound like such a good idea that I got caught up wanting to find Luke a wife.”

“I don’t need any one bride shopping for me. When I’m ready to marry, I’ll find my own.” Luke muttered a growl and turned toward the side window, arms crossed. He stared outside. Whatever made them think he needed their help in finding a wife?

A noise outside snagged his attention. He stepped to the side of the window, pressing his back to the wall, and peered down. The bushes rustled, and then he saw the top of a head—Jack’s head. He bit back a smile, knowing the girl was listening in. He probably should shoo her away, but given the same situation when he’d been a boy, he would have eavesdropped, too. Besides, she’d know everything soon enough.

Rachel cleared her throat. Garrett and Mark shot to their feet, looking like schoolboys who’d pulled a prank and were now sitting in a meeting with the teacher and their parents. Luke shifted his attention to Rachel and the three brides coming into the room. He’d always figured mail-order brides were homely women who couldn’t find a husband, but that wasn’t the case with the trio of females in the parlor.

His gaze was drawn to Rachel. Though she was probably close to ten years older than the other women, she was still willowy and pretty, with her pale blue eyes and soft brown hair. He couldn’t help wondering why Rachel hadn’t remarried. That Rand Kessler sure seemed interested in her.

He scowled at the thought. If he didn’t want her, why did it bother him to think of her marrying some other man?

“Ladies, if you will please have a seat, we will get things started.” Rachel held out her hand, and each of the women scurried past her and sat.

Rachel introduced everyone and looked at Luke and then his cousins, as if she didn’t know where to start. Maybe he should help her out. He stepped forward. “First off, let me say that I’m sorry about this mess. I knew nothing about any of this and didn’t write to any of you.”

Miss O’Neil sucked in a loud breath that sounded like a hiccup and held her hands in front of her mouth. “Blessit be.”

Miss Bennett and Miss Blackstone exchanged glances but kept silent.

“What Garrett and Mark did was inexcusable.” Rachel cut both men a scathing glance. “But I also know they meant well when they tried to find Lu—uh ... the marshal—a wife.” Rachel picked up a Bible off a nearby table and held it to her chest, as if drawing strength from it. She faced Luke’s cousins again. “Do either of you have anything to say?”

Garrett glanced at his brother and then stepped to the center of the room. “We had good intentions, but we never expected to get the results we did. I’ll admit that I wrote letters to two of you, but I really didn’t think any woman would be willing to travel clear to Lookout to marry, and I only sent money for traveling expenses to Miss Bennett.”

Mark cleared his throat, his neck and ears flaming red. “I, uh ... sent travel money to Miss O’Neil.”

“You were wrong about us not wanting to come here.” Miss Bennett squared her shoulders as if daring Garrett to argue with her.

“That’s right,” Miss Blackstone said, lifting her chin in the air.

“Well, be that as it may,” Rachel said, “the only proper thing to do would be to pay the ladies’ ways back to wherever they need to go.”

“No!” The three women shouted in unison.

Miss Blackstone shot to her feet. “There ain—uh ... there’s nothing for me back in Missouri. I came here to marry the marshal, and that’s what I intend to do.”

Miss Bennett jumped up and faced her opponent, blue eyes flashing. “I was the first to arrive, so it only seems fair I should marry Marshal Davis. I have no intention of returning home, either.”

“Oh, saints preserve us.”

Luke stepped back. How could something like this have happened?

“Please, everybody, let’s remain civil.” The women sat down at Rachel’s gentle admonishment. “Do any of you wish to return home?”

The trio of brides shook their heads.

“All right then, let’s see if we can come up with a different solution.” Rachel turned to face the men. “I suppose you men could pay the women’s room and board until they found work or uh ... someone else to marry.”

“Or maybe they should just marry the brides.” Luke grinned at the thought then sobered as he realized that still left one bride.

Garrett shook his head. “I’m not ready to marry.”

“Me either.” Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Rachel stood in the parlor entryway looking like a warrior matron ready to fight for her young charges. “It would seem we have a stalemate.”

Suddenly, Jenny Evans strode through the parlor doors with Jack fast on her heels. “A breech of promise is grounds for a lawsuit.” Miss Evans’s eyes shone bright. She held her notepad to her chest and looked at the brides. “I know a good attorney who will sue the britches off those three men for falsely luring you to town under the guise of marriage.”

Luke stood stunned to silence like the rest of the group. Even the brides appeared shocked at Jenny’s declaration.

“You’ve forced these poor women to leave the comforts of their home and travel hundreds of miles, and now you refuse to marry any of them?” Jenny glared at Luke. Why should her accusations make him feel guilty when he had no part in this loco scheme?

Rachel took a step forward. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of solution without something as drastic as a lawsuit.”

“No, I think these women should sue the marshal and the Corbett brothers as accomplices. Of course, the suit could always be dropped if the marshal agreed to marry one of the women.”

Miss Bennett stood and scurried over to stand beside Miss Evans. “I believe this woman has a point. Marry one of us, me preferably, or we’ll sue you men. Don’t you agree, ladies?”

The other two brides glanced at each other. Miss Blackstone shoved up from her seat and joined them. Miss O’Neil was slower to follow and seemed to do so only to avoid being left out.

Jenny smiled. “There you have it, gentlemen. What will it be? A wedding or a lawsuit?”

“This is ridiculous.” Garrett jumped up. “A lawsuit could ruin us and put us out of business. We’ve worked hard to make a go of our freight line, and this town needs our services. Luke would probably lose his job as marshal, and how would he support a wife then?”

Miss Evans shrugged. “I’m sure he’d find a way to get by. He’s big and strong and could do about any kind of work he put his shoulder to.”

Luke wrestled with the thoughts bombarding his mind. He didn’t want to be responsible for his cousins losing their business, yet none of this was his fault. How had this fiasco turned into a shotgun wedding with the sights set on him?

“Even if the marshal is agreeable, how will he be choosin’
who
to marry?” Miss O’Neil asked.

Garrett sat on the vacant settee and held his chin in one hand while he tapped his index finger against his cheekbone. “I have an idea. Why not have some type of contest? See which gal is the best cook or seamstress. Which one would make the best wife.”

Mark leaned forward, steepling his fingertips together. “That’s not a half bad idea.”

“It’s a stupid idea.” Luke rolled his eyes. Would these fellows never grow up?

“That’s preposterous,” Rachel cried. “There’s more to being a good wife than domestic abilities.”

Miss Blackstone stamped her foot. “I got me a letter stating the marshal wants to marry me. I won’t vie for him like some prize at a carnival.”

Miss Bennett shoved her aside with her elbow. “I’m not giving up without a fight, and if we have to have a contest to find the winner, I’m game.”

The young Irish woman looked as white as milk and remained silent.

“This is a bigger mess than you’d find at a stockyard.” Miss Blackstone plopped back onto her chair, arms crossed.

“Well, you only made things worse when you showed up,” Miss Bennett said. “Two brides wanting the same man was bad enough.”

Miss Blackstone puckered her lips and glared at the young blond. Luke wondered if he might have to separate the brides to keep them from throwing punches. He could hardly blame them for being disconcerted. He certainly was.

“I really like the contest idea.” Mark leaned back with his fingers laced behind his head. “It could solve our problem, and we could get the whole town involved. The women could make you dinner, maybe sew you a shirt or something—I don’t know.”

“And just where are they going to cook this dinner?” Luke shook his head at the absurdity of the idea.

“Rachel would probably let them use her kitchen, beings as it’s for such a good cause.” Mark grinned.

“What good cause? And there’s not a kitchen in town big enough for three feuding women to cook in.” Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, a frown marring her pretty features.

“We could charge people to sample and judge the food, and the money could go to the church.” Garrett stood with his hands on his hips, grinning, as if he’d just solved everyone’s problem.

“No, wait. Not a dinner. How about a pie-making contest? And we can help judge it.” Mark licked his lips and raised his brows.

Luke shook his head. “I’m not about to ask these women to spend what little money they may have left cooking for me.”

Mark drew his eyebrows down. “Of course you won’t. You’ll provide the supplies, and they’ll do the work.”

Luke scratched the back of his neck and half admired his cousins for their ingenuity, even though it was going to cost him more than money, he suspected. He glanced at Jenny Evans to see what she thought of the idea and found her scribbling notes as fast as she could write. Jack sat off to the side, behind her ma, watching the whole ordeal with wide-eyed excitement. His gaze swung over to the ladies. “What makes you think these ladies would even agree to such a harebrained idea?”

Garrett turned to face the women. “If you’re serious about marrying the marshal, you’d be willing to fight for him, wouldn’t you?”

Each bride slowly nodded but looked skeptical.

“Besides,” Garrett said, “a contest would be a good way to see which of you would make the best wife for Luke, and the whole town could get involved.”