Romance: Mail Order Bride The Ideal Bride Clean Christian Western Historical Romance (Western Mail Order Bride Short Shorties Series)

by Alice White

  “I've taken a liking to her as well,” she said.

  Sam chuckled softly and leaned against the fence, cutting another slice of apple and popping it into his mouth. “So?” he asked. “Are you gonna tell me how it went or are you gonna keep me waiting?” When Maxine didn't immediately reply, his face dropped. “Don't tell me you didn't get it.”

  “Quite the opposite, actually,” Maxine said, unable to keep up the facade. She grinned. “I start this coming Monday.”

  “Well, that's just swell,” Sam said. “You really had me going there. Don't scare me like that, girl!”

  “I didn't realize you were so invested, Mr. Wagner.”

  “Well, I'm not the kind of man to wish bad things on a lady like you. Besides, I think I've taken quite a likin' to you as well. It'll be nice to have another woman around the house.”

  “I imagine it will,” Maxine replied. “It does look like it needs a bit of a woman's touch.”

  “Well, it's been quite a while,” Sam replied. He offered Maxine a slice of apple. “You ready to head back to town? A couple of the boys and me are off to the saloon for a drink. We'd be happy to take you back with us. I hope you don't mind riding.”

  Maxine’s cheeks felt warm. “I've never ridden before,” she said.

  “Well, that's all right,” Sam said. “You can ride with me if you like. It's just there's really no use in hitching up a cart when we don't need one, you see.”

  “Of course,” Maxine replied. “Thank you for your offer, Mr. Wagner. I wouldn't mind.”

  “You can call me Sam,” he said. “Please. Mr. Wagner is my pa.” A giggle escaped Maxine as she stifled it with the back of her hand. “Come on, now,” Sam continued. “I'll round up the boys and we'll head on out.”

  “Isn't it a bit early to be leaving?” Maxine asked, following Sam as he moved towards the barn.

  “Naw,” Sam said, finishing off his apple and drawing a cigarette case and match box out of his pocket. “All our jobs are done for the day. We'll be back before it's too late. Mr. Wilkinson's not fussed about it, so long as there's nothing left unfinished.”

  Two other men were waiting in the barn, one of them smoking Horses were already saddled and ready. They greeted Maxine with quiet hellos and tipped their hats. Cigarette in mouth, Sam helped Maxine up onto the saddle of a tall brown gelding before swinging himself up behind her. The other two mounted and they set off. Maxine sat up as straight as she could, clutching the saddle horn, afraid of falling off even with Sam's arms around her. She found herself often leaning back into him. His body was solid and warm and smelled of horses and leather and tobacco smoke. He didn't hold her, but Maxine knew that if she leaned too far to either side he would catch her before she could fall.

  The men chatted amongst themselves about nothing that Maxine could particularly follow, but she did notice that they were careful about their language. Maxine appreciated it, though she was no stranger to foul words. She had no doubt the little group would be entirely different once they had a couple glasses of whiskey in them. She was loathe to leave them, Sam especially, but it would hardly be appropriate for her to sit and drink with them, no matter how much she found herself wanting to.

  The trip back to Amarillo seemed shorter than the trip to the ranch. Before Maxine knew it she could see the town at the bottom of the cliff. Another fifteen minutes of steady riding brought them to its outskirts. Sam's companions rode straight for the saloon, but Sam held back, slowing down the horse to a gentle walk.

  “Where do you live?” he asked.

  “Down that way,” Maxine replied, pointing along the street. “I can walk, it's no trouble.”

  “It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me not to escort you,” Sam replied firmly. He hitched his horse with the others and swung to the ground. Maxine accepted his help dismounting, her hands tight on his shoulders. Her body slid against his before her feet touched the ground. When she tipped her head back their faces were close, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. Almost simultaneously they both looked away and stepped back from each other. Sam's hands fell from her hips. He crooked his elbow at her instead. Maxine placed her hand against it.

  The walk to Lizzy and Jacob's house didn't last long enough.

  “Thank you,” Maxine said when they reached the door. “For everything today.”

  “Of course,” Sam replied. He stepped away. Maxine let her hand trail along his arm before clasping them in front of her. “I'll see you on Monday?”

  “Yes,” Maxine replied. “Of course. Have a good evening Mr. Wa–” She stopped herself at the look on his face. “Sam.”

  “Good evening, Miss Maxine.” Sam tipped his hat and strode off down the street. Maxine watched him go, then shook herself and huffed out a loud sigh. Doing her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, she spun on her heel and let herself into the house.

  Chapter 6

  Maxine wasn't sure she had been properly prepared for the amount of work that housekeeping involved. Still, she wasn't going to give up and crawl back to her sister, or even worse, back to Matthew.

  She would have been lost without Richard and Sam—especially Sam. After every long day making sure everything in the house was running smoothly, she looked for him, even with sore feet and stiff shoulders. He became her personal driver whenever she needed to go into town and went so far as to accompany her to church with Lizzy and Jacob. He looked fine dressed up in his Sunday best. So fine that Maxine almost didn't recognize him at first, with his hair slicked back and his shoes shining.

  “You ready for another riding lesson?” Sam asked as she approached him, letting a steady stream of smoke blow from his mouth.

  “Oh, not today,” Maxine sighed. “I'm still sore from yesterday.”

  “You won't get over that unless you keep going,” Sam said. “Come on, I've already got Willow all saddled up.”

  Maxine sighed, but she couldn't say no to his smile. “Oh, all right,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. Sam's grin widened and he flicked his cigarette away as he opened the gate and let Maxine into the corral. Willow immediately trotted over to her and began to search for a treat. Over the past several weeks she had learned to always have something in her pockets for the mare. Sam checked that all the straps on the saddle were tight and gave Maxine a boost up into the saddle.

  Sam took the lead rope and clicked his tongue. Willow followed easily, with Maxine trying not to clutch the reins too hard. That had been the first thing Sam had corrected her on. That and her posture. She sat too stiffly in the saddle which did nothing to help her saddle sores and made Willow anxious.

  “I'm gonna put her through her paces, all right?” Sam said. “Try not to fall off.”

  Maxine rolled her eyes, but soon she was too occupied with trying not to do just that as Sam guided Willow around the pen. She had gotten better and better, but she still wasn't anywhere near as good as Sam. She had seen him riding with the other ranchers. Sometimes they would race the horses around the ranch and place bets on who would win. Maxine never took part, of course, but she did find watching them exhilarating. The ranch was too large for her to watch the entire race. As soon as the men disappeared into the hills she would wait with baited breath to see who emerged back into the valley first. It was almost always Sam. Maxine didn't have much experience with horses, but she had never seen anyone ride the way he did. She hoped that one day she could be a fraction as skilled as he was.

  “You're slipping,” Sam said, calling her attention back to him. She straightened her posture. “You think you're ready to do a couple loops on your own?”

  “I suppose,” Maxine said, feeling uncertain but wanting to impress her new friend. She counted on Sam and Richard most to show her the ropes and give her the company she missed being away from her sister. Sam never seemed to be in a bad mood, and always had time for her no matter how much work he had done that day. He looped the lead rope over Willow's neck and patted the mare gently on the ru
mp.

  “She's all yours, Miss Maxine.”

  “You don't need to call me miss,” she said. She adjusted her grip on the reins and gently gave Willow her heels. The mare responded easily and smoothly moved into a trot. Maxine clung to the mare's sides with her knees. She hated being bounced about so roughly, but Sam had not once let her fall to the ground. Somehow he always managed to catch her just as she slipped from the saddle. This time, she kept her balance and completed two full loops around the corral before she reined Willow in.

  “Well done!” Sam called.

  “You're clearly a good teacher,” Maxine replied. “I hurt far too much to ride another minute, though. Help me down?” Sam was at her side in an instant, lifting his arms up and gently gripping her waist. Her breath caught in her throat, those butterflies returning to wreak havoc in her stomach as he helped her down from Willow's tall back. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Well done!” Sam called.

  “You're clearly a good teacher,” Maxine replied. “Perhaps a walk? I think it would do me good to stretch my legs.”

  “Whatever the lady wishes,” Sam replied. He helped her down and one of the younger boys came to take Willow back to her stall.

  He didn't offer his arm, but he did walk close to her, their arms and shoulders brushing. “So,” Sam said, drawing out the word. “You uh, you don't have a sweetheart or anything, do you?”

  Maxine glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell him about Matthew. After all, in Sam's eyes she could be the jilted lover. Maybe then her lie of omission would stop lingering in the back of her mind. She tucked her hair behind her ear. What would Sam think of her?

  “Miss Maxine?”

  “You don't need to call me miss,” Maxine said again. “Just Maxine will do. And... no, I don't have a sweetheart, not exactly.”

  “Not exactly?” Sam replied. “That sounds complicated.”

  “It is,” Maxine said. “I... was engaged to a man, but he left me for another woman.” There it was. Out in the open. Mostly. He didn't really need to know about the ad she had answered, did he?

  “Something tells me there’s more to the story.”

  The two of them stopped beneath the shade of a tree. Sam lit up another cigarette. Maxine wrapped her arms around herself and leaned back against the tree.

  “There is,” she said. “I answered an ad in the newspaper not long after my mother died. Matthew was his name. Matthew Wheeler. I was to be his wife, but he found someone else. I sold the ring and bought a ticket here to stay with my sister.”

  “Well, he's a cruel man to turn away someone as fine as you. Beggin' your pardon.”

  Maxine blushed. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don't you worry,” Sam said. “If he ever shows his face around here I'll show him what for.”

  “That's not necessary,” Maxine said. “Truly.”

  Sam shrugged his shoulders. “No man should treat a woman that way. That's all I mean.”

  Maxine looked down at her shoes.

  “Do you, perhaps, think you would like a sweetheart?” Sam asked. He didn't look at her, but he had taken his hat off and was squinting out into the sun.

  Maxine's heart fluttered. “Are you... asking me to be your sweetheart?” she asked.

  “Would you mind it if I was?” Sam asked. “Because if that's the case, then no, that ain't what I'm askin'.”

  “I-I think I would like that,” she said. “Very much.”

  Sam looked at her and grinned. “Good,” he said. “'Cos I’d like that very much too. Do you think it would be all right if I... if I kissed you? I've been waitin', you know, for a while I've–”

  “Yes,” Maxine said quickly. Sam drew her close. His lips tasted like tobacco and something sweeter underneath, the tartness of an apple, perhaps.

  Maxine had never felt anything like this with Matthew–he had his moments, but hadn't stirred her soul the way Sam had. She opened her mouth to speak when she heard someone call out her name.

  “Matthew!”

  “I've come to fetch you home,” Matthew said, climbing down from his horse. “Or perhaps I should leave you here with this... farmer.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Where else would you have gone except to your sister? Now come here.”

  “No,” Maxine said.

  “No?” Matthew repeated. “No? I paid for you to be my wife, and unless you want to return my money you’re coming with me.”

  “She ain't goin' anywhere with the likes of you,” Sam said, shielding Maxine. “She told me what you did to her. She's my woman now, and I ain't gonna let you take her back to a life she hates.”

  “She didn't hate my money,” Matthew replied. “What can you offer her that I can't? She's coming with me.” But the second Matthew was close enough Sam shoved him back and took a swing at him, his fist connecting with Matthew's jaw with a resounding crack. Maxine gasped and jumped back, covering her mouth with her hand. The two men circled each other. Maxine had never learned much about Matthew, but it was clear that brawling wasn't one of his strengths. She pushed through the ring of men, worried not for Matthew, but for what would happen to Sam if things went too far. Money could buy many things. She launched herself at Sam and hung off his arm to keep him from swinging at Matthew again.

  “Stop,” she said, “for the love of God I won't have you two trying to kill each other.”

  Sam had a murderous look on his face, but he stopped and took a step back from very bloodied Matthew, who spit blood out of his mouth. Maxine looked away, the sight of it making her feel ill.

  “I'm not leaving without her,” Matthew growled.

  “Then I guess you're not goin' anywhere,” Sam replied, “'cos she ain't goin' with you.”

  Maxine fished her handkerchief out of one of her pockets and used it to wipe the blood off of Sam's face. She watched his eyes dart from Matthew to where one of the ranch hands was holding his horse in the distance. His jaw tightened. “I'll race you. I'll bet everything I have. If I win, you leave and never show your face around here again. If I lose, well, I won't stop you from doin' what you like.”

  Matthew scoffed and brushed dirt off of his trousers, but Maxine knew he wouldn't refuse such a direct challenge. It would be an unacceptable blemish on his pride and ego. “Fine,” he said.

  “Fine,” Sam replied.

  “Sam,” Maxine said, holding his arm tight.

  “Don't worry,” Sam said before Maxine could continue. “I've never lost a race yet.” He flashed her a smile and both men stalked off, Matthew to his horse and Sam to the stables. There were never any rules in place during the races, but there had never been a need to make any. Maxine feared what would happen after Sam and Matthew were out of sight.

  It only took a few minutes to get everything ready. The ranch hands milled around, and even Mr. Wilkinson and Richard and the other house servants had lined up on the porch, drawn by the commotion. Richard caught her eye and gestured her to come close.

  “What's going on?” he asked softly. “Who's that well dressed fellow?”

  “My ex-finace,” Maxine whispered back and ignored the shocked look on Richard's face. “Sam challenged him to a race, and–”

  “Sam's one of the best riders I've ever seen,” Richard told her. “Some city boy won't beat him.”

  “I hope you're right,” Maxine said. Sam swung himself into the saddle and nudged his horse up to the line that one of the men had drawn across the road. Someone else was explaining the route to Matthew, pointing off into the distance, but Matthew seemed to be listening with half an ear. He looked irritated and impatient, and his horse danced underneath him, pawing at the dirt.

  Sam gave Maxine one last look, then focused on the road ahead of him. One of the ranchers pointed his gun into the air and fired. The riders were off, followed by a cloud of dust.

  The races only lasted a few minutes, but this one seemed to drag on forever. Sam and Matthew vanished beh
ind the hills. She fiddled with her necklace and mumbled a prayer under her breath. Let Sam win. Let him be safe. Let Matthew leave her in peace. She had never truly wanted to marry him to begin with, it had just been the means to an end, and now that she had found a man she really did care about, the last thing she wanted was to be torn away from him. Maxine strained her ears listening for a gunshot or a horse's whinny, her gaze on the other end of the road where the riders would emerge.

  A dust cloud was the first sign, and then a silhouette, still too far away for Maxine to know who it was.

  Suddenly the men began to cheer, and Maxine felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Matthew wasn't far behind, but Sam was ahead and safe and riding for all he was worth, steadily putting distance between himself and Matthew until, at last, he crossed the finish line.

  He pulled up the horse in front of the house and swung a leg off in one fluid motion, landing on the ground and not stopping until he was on the porch and had grabbed Maxine around the waist and swung her around. He stank of sweat and sun and leather and horses and Maxine had never smelled something so sweet. She hugged him tightly, arms around his neck, and spared a glance to where Matthew was being held back from them by a press of men who very much meant business and had every intention of keeping him from coming any closer.

  “I was so frightened,” Maxine said into Sam's ear, clutching at the back of his head. He squeezed her then put her back down on her feet and cupped her face in his hands.

  “Told you I've never lost a race,” Sam said with a grin that made Maxine feel giddy with happiness. She brushed her lips across his and pressed her face into his sweat soaked shirt.

  Mr. Wilkinson gruffly cleared his throat. Maxine peeked over Sam's shoulder to see him addressing Matthew. “Well, now, I don't rightly know what's going on here, but I do know that I don't appreciate trespassers on my ranch, so you had better scurry on home son before I decide to take matters into my own hands.” Matthew's anger blazed bright in his eyes, but he was largely outnumbered and likely outgunned. With a snarl he whipped his horse around and put his heels to its flanks, leaving a cloud of dust as the only sign that he had ever been there in the first place. “Now Sam,” he continued, turning to face him and Maxine with his hands clasped behind his back, “you best be planning on making an honest woman out of Miss Hanson here.”