His Substitute Mail-Order Bride

by Sherri Shackelford

  Even if her past wasn’t tainted, she didn’t stand a chance with someone like Russ. He was being kind to her because of their past connection. Once a prettier, more accomplished woman caught his eye, he’d forget all about her. She wouldn’t have to worry about people associating them together.

  As much as she told herself that would be for the best, the thought didn’t settle well.

  He doffed his hat and brushed his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “I hope you don’t mind, I’m a little early. I wanted to ensure you were feeling well enough for dinner.”

  “I’m fine.” She touched his sleeve, marveling at the play of muscles beneath her fingertips. “You mustn’t worry about me. I’m fit as a fiddle and ready to start working.”

  She desperately needed a job, and she couldn’t be seen as sickly in the eyes of a man who could secure her a position.

  Appearing sheepish, he said, “You can’t blame me entirely. Our first encounter was rather dramatic.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” she said. “But there’s no need to treat me with kid gloves. I’m ready to find work and move out of this suite.” She flourished her arm. “I was hoping to speak with Mr. Canfield tonight about working at his hotel, if you don’t mind.”

  “Why should I mind? I’ll put in a good word for you, as well.”

  “Thank you.” The tension eased from her shoulders. “You have no idea how much your assistance means to me.” He stuck out his elbow, and she looped her arm through his. “I didn’t mean to be cross.”

  “Were you being cross?” His mouth quirked in an endearing grin. “I didn’t notice. How are you enjoying Cowboy Creek otherwise?”

  A sense of hope filled her spirit. “Wonderfully alive and free. After my father died, I lived with my aunt for a few months and married shortly after. This is the first time I’ve ever been completely independent. It’s frightening, but it’s exhilarating, as well.”

  There was always a sense that she was living on borrowed time, and her good fortune was bound to end. Even with the threat of storms on the horizon, she was determined to store what bit of sun currently shone through the clouds. She had today. She had this moment. There was no one to berate her, and no one in town who knew her secret shame. She could live, just for the moment, like anyone else.

  She’d been at the mercy of the men in her life for as long as she could remember, and she was determined to savor this glimpse of freedom.

  “I remember that feeling,” Russ said. “I was all of seventeen when I boarded a train alone for the first time. I was terrified and euphoric in the same moment. At the first stop, I bought an entire bag of licorice and ate every piece. Made me sick, but it was totally worth the suffering.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel. Childishly jubilant. There’s no one to scold my faults. All of my choices, even the poor ones, are my own.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re happy.” His gaze deepened, and beyond the small smile, she thought she saw questions in his eyes.

  She ducked her head. “We should go. I don’t want to be late.”

  He led her down the three flights of hotel stairs, and they crossed the ornate lobby. A porter in a smart green uniform with a matching cap tugged on his forelock in greeting.

  Russ held the door, and they stepped into the cool evening air.

  Anna inhaled the spring breeze, letting her lungs expand until the feeling was almost painful. “It’s beautiful here. The sky is endless. Sometimes it’s almost frightening.”

  She was normally afraid of looking to the future, afraid of feeling optimism. But tonight, for a brief, beautiful time, she was filled with hope. Surely if God had created a sky this ferociously blue, anything was possible? As one of God’s creatures, even she was afforded a modicum of happiness.

  Russ followed her gaze. “It’s overwhelming, sometimes. I recall the first time I watched a storm approaching over the horizon. The clouds were astonishing. Beautiful and incredibly humbling. Back home in Missouri, I’d never seen a storm with that sort of power.”

  “I felt that way when I stepped off the train. The colors were too bold and the scenery too overpowering.”

  “After Philadelphia, everything is brighter. Do you miss home?”

  “No,” she said, emotion clogging her throat. The conviction of her words set her firmly on the path to freedom. “I’ll never go back.”

  “Never is a long time.”

  Never wasn’t nearly long enough. There was nothing in Philadelphia but melancholy reminders of the past. “What about you? Is Cowboy Creek where you’ll settle permanently? Or are you like the mayor? Do you have your sights set on Washington?”

  “I like it here. I have family here. I’m content to stay.”

  His words didn’t entirely answer her question. What was Cowboy Creek when compared to the glamour and power of Washington, D.C.? Even considering a run for mayor marked him as ambitious, and she’d had her fill of ambitious, scheming men.

  She set her chin and lifted her head. His future was none of her concern. In all likelihood, neither of them would stay in Cowboy Creek long. Which was probably for the best. No one could capitalize on their slight connection for political exploit.

  Instead of worrying about the future, she told herself to enjoy the evening. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting such a fine town.”

  “You were expecting gunfights and loose cattle wandering the streets?”

  “Something like that.”

  “We’ve had our fair share of excitement, that’s for certain. Not to mention the occasional cattle drive down Eden Street. But we also have a lot of amenities. Two beautiful hotels, several excellent restaurants, stockyards and lumberyards, even an opera house. Soon we’ll have a library.”

  “You don’t have to sell the town to me. I’m quite fond of Cowboy Creek already.”

  Though not as crowded as the previous day, the boardwalk teemed with activity. She recognized two elderly men sitting outside the mercantile. She’d seen them sitting in the exact same spot the previous day.

  She gestured discreetly. “Do they ever move?”

  Russ threw back his head and laughed. “It’s time I introduced you to Gus and Old Horace. The town wouldn’t be the same without those two.”

  With an outstretched arm, Russ held back the passing wagons as they crossed the road. “Horace and Gus, I’d like you to meet the newest resident of Cowboy Creek. Mrs. Anna Linford.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Horace declared, a slight twang in his booming voice.

  Horace wore his long gray hair pulled back with a leather strap from a weathered face dominated by rheumy eyes. Though he sat slightly hunched, she guessed from his frame that he would stand tall and lean. The nub of a cheroot hung from the side of his mouth, and the odor made her stomach rebel.

  “That name sounds familiar,” he said. “Are you staying at the boardinghouse?”

  “No.” She tamped down a twinge of guilt. There was no reason he might have heard of her. “I’m staying at The Cattleman.”

  “That’s a nice hotel. Will Canfield even put carpet on the stairs. Have you ever seen such decadence?” Horace asked. “I heard The Lariat is even nicer. What could be nicer than carpeted stairs?”

  “She came with ol’ Ward,” said the second man, Gus. “You remember. He was telling us all about how he stopped those outlaws with nothing but his bare hands and his wits.”

  Gus appeared shorter than Horace, with dark eyes, a shocking tuft of snow-white hair and a matching beard.

  “He didn’t do nothing but get hisself tied up and thrown in the ditch,” Horace argued. “That’s what I heard.”

  “And I suppose you’d have done something different?”

  “I coulda’ taken ’em out blindfolded with one hand behind my back. These young fellers don’t know the first thing about bei
ng a true outlaw.” Horace cocked his thumbs and extended his index fingers as though brandishing a pair of six-shooters. “You gotta show ’em you’re crazy.”

  Gus snorted. “You got that part down. We all think you’re crazy.”

  “Mr. Ward acted quite bravely.” Anna pressed two fingertips against her mouth, stifling a laugh. “As did Mr. Halloway. Although I’m certain he could have used your assistance.”

  Russ squeezed her arm. “It’s true. They knocked me out cold. A couple of tough soldiers like you two would have saved me a headache.”

  “He’s right, you know.” Horace elbowed Gus. “I don’t know what this town would do without the two of us.”

  “Me, either,” Russ said.

  “Oh go on, you old fool.” Gus chortled at Horace. “At the end of the day, you can’t hardly lift your backside from the grooves you’ve made in that chair, let alone take on a couple of armed outlaws.”

  “You’re getting too old, Gus. Don’t you remember the old days?”

  “’Course I remember the old days. Cuz that’s all you ever talk about. It’s like your life ended forty years ago after the Battle of San Jacinto with old Sam Houston.”

  Horace nodded. “Now there was a man. Old Sam Houston never cracked. Not even when they drove him out of office. He didn’t live to see the end of the war. They don’t make men like that anymore.”

  Russ cleared his throat. “We’d best be going. Dinner at the Canfields’.”

  “Word around town is that Tomasina is cooking.” Gus rubbed his stomach. “You’d best eat something ahead of time. That gal knows everything there is to know about cattle ’ceptin’ for how to cook them.”

  Anna’s stomach lurched, and her smile became strained. She generally had a strong constitution, but lately everything sent her stomach churning. Right now, she didn’t want to consider the origins of her next meal.

  Horace jabbed his friend and pointed. “Now look what ya done. You’ve gone and turned the lady green with sick. Don’t you know any better than to talk about where your food comes from afore you eat it? Not everyone has an iron stomach like you, you old goat.”

  “I’m right sorry, ma’am,” Gus mumbled an abashed apology. “I didn’t mean to discuss butchering around a lady.”

  “It’s been entertaining as always.” Russ pressed a firm hand into the small of her back. “We’d best be going. Don’t want to be late.”

  “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Linford,” Horace called. “Tell Mayor Canfield I saw them two urchins again. I reported them to Sheriff Getman, but that old fool says I saw your brother’s youngins. I told ’im I ain’t blind. I know the difference between folks. I know they wasn’t the Halloway boys.”

  Gus crossed his arms over his chest. “You couldn’t see a bear if it was tapping you on the shoulder. You got the eyesight of a mole.”

  “I see just fine, and I’m telling you, I saw two boys that ain’t the Halloways lurking around the back of the mercantile.”

  “Lurking, were they?” Gus shook his head, flapping his jowls. “Well, ain’t you something, using them big fancy words.”

  Horace crossed his arms and leaned toward his friend. “If you ever quit your yapping long enough to do a little reading, maybe you’d know some big fancy words, too.”

  “Don’t you get sassy with me.” Gus brandished an index finger in rebuke. “I’ll tell them about the time you set out to rope a steer and wound up roping yourself.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did, too. You trussed yourself up like a Christmas goose.”

  Russ urged Anna toward the street. “I’ll tell the mayor about the boys you saw.” He tugged her along. “Nice seeing you fellows.”

  “Nice meeting you,” Anna called over her shoulder.

  Russ picked up his pace. “I should have warned you. Those two can talk your ear off.”

  “I liked them.” She sent another wave at the two elderly men. “They’re very funny.”

  “The town wouldn’t be the same without them, that’s for sure. They know just about everything about everyone around here. No one has secrets around those two.”

  “Really?” Anna shivered. “I don’t have to worry then.”

  Much. As long as the two older men rarely strayed from their vigil outside the mercantile, there was little chance they knew anything about gossip from Philadelphia. Then again, Horace obviously liked to read. Or was it Gus? She couldn’t tell them apart. Either way, she’d make a point to avoid those two. If one of them had read something in the papers, she didn’t want them linking her name.

  Distracted by the encounter, she passed the rest of the journey in silence, letting Russ carry the conversation.

  He pointed out the local sights, including Daniel and Leah’s house, then indicated a two-story home painted a light shade of slate with a wraparound porch and turreted corner. “I moved here a few months ago.”

  Anna did a double take, and her footsteps slowed. The yard was enormous with a large patch of land on the south-facing side. True to his word, there was a single redbud tree standing like a lonely sentry in the side yard.

  Her mind immediately went to work on the best place to plant a garden. With all the sunlight on the south side, she could sow nearly a quarter acre of herbs in the unused space. A well pump visible on the far side of the house was the perfect source for water.

  “That’s why I left it that way,” Russ said, his voice seeping into her plans.

  “Left what that way?” she quizzed.

  “The yard. I bought both the lots when I built the house. The Fletchers lived on the other side at the time, and Dr. Fletcher had a voice like a foghorn. His whisper sent cattle stampeding. I figured it was best if we put some space between us.”

  He gently tugged her along, and she gave a last look over her shoulder. “Sounds prudent. A budding opera singer once lived next door to us in Philadelphia. She had a voice like a drowning pelican.”

  “God loves those who dream.”

  “It was a nightmare for the rest of us.”

  Russ grinned. “Then you understand. Dr. Fletcher and his wife moved, though. They retired to a warmer climate. Good thing I didn’t sell the extra land yet. They may be moving back soon. There’s coal in the area, and some of the ranchers are selling for quick profit.”

  “You don’t sound pleased.”

  “There’s no such thing as easy money. Sooner or later, someone has to pay.”

  Anna sniffed the air. “Do you smell that? I think something is burning.”

  “I’m guessing that’s dinner. We’re here.”

  Russ led her up the wide porch stairs and knocked on the door. Will and Tomasina’s house sat near the edge of town, and the prairie stretched into the distance. The house was larger than Russ’s and elegant, though not nearly as ostentatious as the Canfields’ former home. The sprawling two-story home, along with the barn and side yard, took up nearly an entire town block. Leaded glass windows decorated the turreted window, and a pair of chaps flung over the porch railing added a touch of the commonplace.

  A redhead with a mass of wild curls piled atop her head swung open the door. An acid-green dress perfectly fitted her frame, and her cheeks were flushed with hectic color.

  She thrust a bundle into Anna’s arms. “Can you hold Andrew for a moment? We’ve got a bit of a fire in the kitchen, and Will has his hands full right now.”

  Chapter Eight

  Anna accepted the tiny bundle with a startled gasp. “I’d be delighted.”

  Tomasina grasped a towel she’d draped over her shoulder and extended her hand. “You’ll need this if you ever want to wear that dress again. He’s got the stomach of a seasick sailor.”

  Anna adjusted the tiny bundle before she accepted the cloth. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you. He’s normally quite content. I don’t expect
you’ll have a problem. Call if you need anything.” The redhead pivoted on her heel and followed the cloud of acrid smoke drifting from the rear of the house.

  Russ waved his hand before his face and turned toward Anna. “I’d best see if they need any help. Will you be all right for a few minutes?”

  Staring down at the bundle in her arms, Anna wasn’t too sure. But she looked up and nodded. “I’ll be fine for a few minutes.”

  “Right then. I’ll see if we need to ring for the fire brigade.”

  Following his hasty retreat, Anna hovered uncertainly in the vestibule. With her index finger, she gently tugged the blanket free of the infant’s face. Blurry, blue-black eyes stared back at her. The bundle was light, lighter even than a sack of flour, and smaller, too. Warmth radiated from the tiny mound of blankets, and the child’s mouth worked, his tiny eyes blinking in drowsy curiosity.

  “Hello, Andrew,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you don’t mind, but your parents are a little preoccupied right now.”

  Andrew opened his mouth in a gummy yawn and smacked his lips.

  “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

  She peered into the rooms flanking the vestibule and discovered a well-appointed parlor wallpapered in dancing blue peacocks. She perched on a tufted velvet chair and surveyed her surroundings. Much like the outside of the house, the room had touches of elegance alongside a bit of chaos. The patterned wallpaper lent an air of colorful cheer, at odds with an enormous painting of a grim-faced drover that hung above the mahogany fireplace mantel.

  The infant stirred, and Anna focused her attention on her precious duty. Swathed in a pale blue dressing gown, a miniature pair of feet encased in crocheted booties kicked free from the enfolding blankets. The child remained blissfully unperturbed by the voices raised in panic echoing from the kitchen. A pot clattered, and Anna winced. Andrew barely blinked when the back door slammed. She peered around the corner and sat back again. She was only a few steps from the front door if the situation worsened.