An Undercover Detective's Bride

by Blythe Carver

  A scream rose up from downstairs, and feet thundered up the stairs as Mason collapsed against the bed. Rachel was on him in an instant, throwing her arms about his neck just as Lewis and Rance entered the room.

  “You’re injured!” Rachel shouted when one of her hands came back covered in his blood.

  He looked down at his shoulder, almost surprised to see the blood there. When the wound had opened, he couldn’t say. He hadn’t felt a thing. Most likely the excitement of the moment had clouded his senses.

  Now, however, the danger past, he felt everything quite acutely. It was clear he had already bled quite a bit.

  “I think I shall need the assistance of a doctor,” he managed, before darkness overtook him.

  The last thing he felt was the pressure of Rachel’s lips against his forehead.

  And he smiled.

  21

  Beat it out of Mr. Grant… should recover… he made it here before we did, hid upstairs… broken window in the parlor…

  All of this went on around her, though she could hardly hear it. Not that it mattered. Liam O’Connor was dead and could no longer hurt her. Or Mason.

  Thanks to whatever instinct had led him to return, rather than boarding the train. She could hardly wait to ask him why he’d remained in Carson City.

  She owed him her life. Nothing less. They all did.

  “How is he?” Rachel asked the moment the doctor stepped out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  He appeared rather amused at the sight of five anxious women crowded around the door. This seemed like a good sign. Would he appear in good spirits if Mason was dying?

  “He’ll be just fine,” the kindly old doctor assured them. “Lost some blood, took a few blows to his face, but nothing that won’t heal nicely. Rest, good food, plenty to drink. He’ll be good as new in no time.”

  She could’ve hugged the man until he begged her to stop. “Can I see him?”

  “Naturally. In fact, he’s rather determined to see you, young Rachel. I nearly had to pin him to the bed to keep him in place.”

  Rachel cast a glance around at her sisters. All of them appeared to encourage her, with Phoebe even going so far as to nudge her. “Go on,” she whispered. “What are you waiting for?”

  She was right. There was nothing to wait for. Why, then, did it feel as though someone had nailed her shoes to the floor?

  “The man came back for you,” Molly whispered. “The least you can do is thank him for all of us.”

  “Yes,” Cate urged. “He saved us all. Who knows what might’ve happened if he hadn’t been so clever?”

  “Go on!” Holly insisted, nudging her as Phoebe had.

  There was nothing left to do but to go inside or be nagged to death by her sisters.

  That was not as easy a task as one would imagine, seeing as how the man who’d been hell-bent on killing her had died there not an hour earlier. Rance and Lewis had removed the body, while Molly supervised the rolling up of the rug. Aside from the torn curtains and shattered mirror, there was nothing left to remind her of Liam O’Connor’s presence.

  Though her memories were a different matter.

  But she could manage them, so long as Mason was alive to help her do so.

  His exasperated sigh came as something of a surprise. “He saw fit to let you in, then? I thought he’d never allow it.”

  She burst out laughing. “Hello. It’s good to see you awake.”

  His frustration melted away, and he laughed with her. “Forgive me. Please, sit down.” He patted the side of the bed, and the humor of him inviting her to sit on her own bed wasn’t lost on her. She smiled to herself as she sat.

  “Whatever made you come back?” she asked, first off. “It’s been on my mind since the moment I saw you there, holding the pistol.”

  Such horrible moments. Liam’s rough hands, the tightness of her restraints. His promises, how he would make her suffer for leading him so far from home. How he’d longed to follow her the moment he knew where she’d gone but knew he’d do better to wait. To make certain she wasn’t on her guard when he chose to make her acquaintance.

  “I realized at the last minute that there was business I had yet to see to,” he confessed. He spoke slowly, a bit slurred, as his wounded lip made it difficult to be clear.

  “What business was that?”

  He reached for her, and she did not flinch away. “What do you think?” The touch of his hand on her cheek sent a ripple of pure pleasure and joy racing through her, starting from her heart and moving down to her fingers and toes.

  Were it not for the presence of the bed beneath her, she would’ve sworn she was floating.

  “I wanted you to stay,” she confessed in a whisper, trembling. Even though the look in his eyes told her heart what it needed to know, there was still fear in her voice. This was all so new. What did a person say in a situation such as this?

  Had there ever been a situation such as this?

  “I understood before it was too late that I wanted to stay,” he confessed, his voice as soft as his caress. She was glad now that her sisters had forced her away from the door so she might wash and dress in something without Liam’s blood on it.

  “But why? Why did you want to stay?”

  “You’re going to force me to admit it, aren’t you?” He smiled, shaking his head. “You won’t make this easy for me.”

  “You need only say what’s on your mind. It doesn’t have to be difficult.”

  “This feels all wrong. I should be kneeling before you, in the parlor perhaps. Prevailing upon you to open your heart and accept me into it. Not sitting up in your bed with fresh stitches in my shoulder.”

  “I don’t care. I truly don’t. So long as you say what made you stay behind.”

  “It’s going to come out all wrong.”

  “You aren’t doing a grand job of it now, either.”

  This made him chuckle, and that seemed to be enough to break through his nervousness. “I stayed because there was something left unspoken. I couldn’t see the wisdom in putting most of the country between us before I knew for certain.”

  “Knew what?” she breathed, her heart in her throat.

  He took her trembling hands in his. “Whether you could find it in your heart to love me as I love you. Because I love you. Terribly. And if you don’t feel the same, I understand. I’ve no intention of forcing my affection upon you. But—”

  She shook her head. “You needn’t go on.”

  His face fell. “No?”

  “Because I do love you.” She beamed, the words pouring from her willing lips. “I wanted so much to tell you so, but I was afraid. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to ruin your life, to hold you here with me. I wanted you to have whatever it is you want.”

  “I want you.” He took her face between his hands. “I’ve wanted you from the first, months ago. The first time I set eyes on you, I knew there could be no one else for me. Only you.”

  “Truly?”

  “Always.” But his smile faded a bit. “Although… are you sure you want a man like myself? I’m uncertain where I’ll go from here. Whether I want to continue as a detective. Whether I’ll be able to do so, staying out here.”

  “You’ll stay?” Miracle after miracle. She could hardly keep track of the wonders in her life.

  He laughed. “Of course! Do you think I’d be able to bear being away from you now?”

  She ran her hand over his cheek, delighting in the ability to do so. She’d longed to touch him so many times. His beard was as soft as it looked. “But I have to stay here,” she reminded him.

  “I’m sure we can work something out, as Phoebe and Rance have. So long as I can be with you and have you as my wife, nothing else matters.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Your wife?”

  “Didn’t you know that’s what this was leading up to? Precious woman.” He leaned in, pressing his mouth, injured lip and all, to her forehead. “Yes, Rachel Reed.
I’m asking you to be my wife.”

  It was a dream come true. Nothing less.

  Never would she have to settle for anything except true love. All thanks to him.

  “I’m accepting,” she laughed through the tears which had begun to flow. She was quite careful to be as gentle as could be when he kissed her, barely brushing her lips over his for fear of hurting him.

  He was the one person she’d take care never to hurt again.

  “It seems it’s over now.”

  Mason lowered the telegram, gazing at her from the other side of the parlor sofa. “The Baltimore Police have moved in on Liam’s group, who they’re just now classifying as an offshoot of the Maguires. The other agents in the city handed in all of the intelligence we gathered, and it was more than enough to round them up and send them away for a long time.”

  “That’s wonderful news! I can only imagine what a relief it must be for the people there to be rid of those men.” Rachel kissed his cheek, freshly-shaven now that there was no longer a need for disguise.

  How she’d missed his face, the dimples, the cleft in his chin. Now he looked more like himself, down to shorter hair.

  “And what does your uncle think of me?” she dared ask. “I know that’s more than can be shared in a telegram, but I also know you received a letter from him in the post this morning.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Is anything sacred? Can a man not receive a letter without interrogation?”

  “When I suspect the letter has to do with me? And when I know you wrote to him the very day of your encounter with Liam? And that you sent the letter to town with Rance the following morning?”

  “All right, all right. I give up. You’ve got me beat.” He favored her with a fond smile in spite of his grumbling. “He thinks my being married is an excellent idea, though he’ll miss my presence in the office.”

  “He understands why you can’t return? Not yet, at least?”

  “He does, and he thinks me mad for agreeing to be one of Rance’s deputies for now. To say nothing of his opinion on my living in the spare bedroom of Rance and Phoebe’s home.”

  It would be an unusual arrangement, to be sure. The two of them living as bachelors for half of the week, then living with their wives during the remainder. Yet plenty of married couples shared their homes with other family members. They were not unique.

  And they were willing to do it if it meant being together permanently once the year was out and the ranch was officially theirs.

  Besides, it pleased Phoebe to know her husband would have someone to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t spend entire days at a time behind his desk, though, as Mason gently reminded her, he was perhaps not the best person to keep Rance on the straight and narrow.

  “I’ve been known to work for days at a time, too,” he’d admitted, to her consternation.

  “Martha will nag you until you take care of yourselves, then,” she’d decided, knowing it would be best for the men to avoid her ire.

  Rachel moved a bit nearer, knowing the rest of the family was out of the house and unlikely to surprise them. It was difficult to find a moment’s privacy in such a busy household, but with Lewis rounding up the herd and the girls serving a hearty dinner to the hands when they returned, the place was otherwise quiet.

  “Now that we have this settled and my uncle’s blessing is upon us, I suppose we ought to start discussing plans for the wedding,” Mason suggested, kissing the top of her head before draping an arm over her shoulders. “For what it’s worth, I think we’ve waited long enough to be husband and wife.”

  She couldn’t have agreed more.

  Epilogue

  “I never thought it would be my time.” Rachel sat before the mirror, watching as Molly placed the finishing touches on the flowers in her hair. The last of the roses for the year, white and pink. With October closing in on them, there would be no more.

  “You look beautiful,” Molly whispered, squeezing Rachel’s shoulders. They were covered in cream satin, overlaid in lace. The train of her gown stretched out three feet behind her, covered in jets of lace and bunches of roses.

  She felt every inch a queen on this beautiful autumn day. A queen in all her finery, down to the pearl necklace and earbobs which Mason had given her as a gift the prior evening.

  “They were my mother’s,” he’d explained, fastening the clasp at the back of her neck. “I asked Uncle Robert to bring them out for me.”

  “They’re exquisite,” she’d gasped, admiring herself in the looking glass.

  “You are exquisite,” he’d reminded her. “The pearls are nothing when compared to your beauty. You make them pale in comparison.”

  While she suspected this was the sweet talk of an enamored fiancé, it was lovely to hear.

  She turned her head this way and that, watching the earbobs dance. How lucky she was.

  Mason had saved her life, and now, he was giving her the sort of life she’d only ever dreamed of. True love. Devotion. Protection. Joy.

  Deep, radiant joy which seemed to pour from her as she waited for the signal to descend to the parlor.

  The door opened, and in came the rest of her sisters. They ooh’d and ahh’d, admiring her gown and the veil which frosted her rich, brown hair in its curls and waves. “You’re like something out of Godey’s,” Cate gushed. “A walking fashion plate.”

  “Everyone is ready,” Phoebe whispered, kissing her cheek through the veil. “They’re waiting for you.”

  “We’ll meet you downstairs,” Holly gushed, then rounded up the others and ushered them out the door and into the hall. Leaving her alone for just a moment.

  One last moment to herself, before she was someone’s bride. A bride! A wife. Mrs. Mason Murphy, wife to one of the deputies of Carson City.

  What a turn life had taken.

  Rance met her in the hall, his eyes shining as he watched her approach. “You are truly lovely. Mason is a lucky man.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” she whispered, beaming, as they began their descent, arm-in-arm.

  Martha gasped in delight at the sight of her, while Jesse beamed with pride. He behaved as though this were his wedding day, and had even subjected himself to a thorough scrubbing before dressing in his finest. He’d promised to leave his pet snake at home just for the occasion.

  The ranch hands removed their hats at her approach, all of them nodding in acknowledgment as she passed on her way to the hearth in the parlor.

  Mason’s uncle stood at his side, smiling with deep pride and affection. Rachel and he had taken to each other instantly. He looked like an older version of his nephew, and was just as devoted to him as any father could be. It was sweet to see his obvious pride as he patted Mason on the back.

  And there he was. How could she have known that the handsome young man who’d caught her fancy would one day be her husband?

  How could she have predicted any of this?

  It was enough to make her wait with breathless anticipation to see what life had in store for them next.

  She reached him, placing her hand in his and taking a deep breath.

  “Are you ready, my beauty?” he whispered, his eyes going over every inch of her face as if to hold this moment in his memory forever.

  Forever.

  Yes. She was ready.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from the next in the series!

  An Inconvenient Bride Excerpt

  Kidnapped and held for ransom, Holly Reed escapes and makes a run for it.

  Half Indian, half Scottish, Roan MacIntosh’s just another mountain man. One who wants to be left alone. He doesn’t want company, especially not some yappy female he saves from a blizzard. He also doesn’t need anyone.

  Until he’s got new set of unexpected visitors. And now, Holly Reed, the one who needed saving is the one to do the saving.

  Chapter 1

  Holly Reed was in trouble.

  This wasn’t the sort of trouble she was accustomed to getting into.r />
  Angering the school superintendent back in Baltimore when she had demanded the girls in her class be held to the same academic standards as the boys, for example.

  Nor was this the same as getting into a fight with one of her sisters, her quick temper and sharp tongue continually leading her to say things she wished she could take back.

  Imagine, fearing the loss of one’s position or the anger of one’s sisters.

  All of it paled in comparison to the predicament in which she found herself upon regaining consciousness in the back of a filthy wagon in the middle of nowhere.

  Her mouth was covered, a bandana tied around it and what she assumed was a handkerchief tucked inside. She tried to move her arms, but her wrists had been tightly bound behind her. The same was true of her ankles, rough cords of rope chafing her skin even through her stockings when she attempted to move.

  Her heart raced like mad, so much so, that dark spots began to dance before her eyes. She knew all too well what this meant. She would faint, losing consciousness once again.

  Instinct told her to calm herself as best she could so as to avoid this. No matter where she was, no matter who had placed her in this situation, she would need to keep her wits about her if she hoped to escape.

  Just who would she be escaping? And where?

  And how would she get home?

  She listened hard, closing her eyes so as to sharpen her hearing. The stench of raw meat nearby was enough to nearly overwhelm her, but she fought against its assault on her senses, that she might better take in her surroundings.

  Muffled conversation took place not far from where she waited in the wagon, the voices of the men floating to her on the night air. It was a terribly cold night, with winter quickly approaching. She shivered, wishing for a moment that the fire which she heard crackling beyond the wagon were enough to keep her warm.

  Though, if it meant leaving the wagon and being in the presence of these strangers, she would have rather frozen solid.