by Elle James
“He’s from the US, the state of Montana.” Lilianna switched apps on her phone. “Where is Montana?”
“A state in the northwest. Known for its cold weather and miles and miles of nothing. There’s not much out there, until you get to the western side of the state where all the mountains are. Even then, not many people live in Montana, from what I recall of my geography class.”
“Wouldn’t that be perfect?” Lilianna’s face lit in a grin. “Sounds like it’s way out in the middle of nowhere. A place you could get lost in. Whoever is sabotaging you won’t find you there.” She practically jumped up and down on her seat. “It’s just what you need.”
“I’m not going to Montana. I’m not marrying a stranger,” Olivia said.
Lilianna switched back to the mail-order bride app and held up her hand. “Listen to this. If this isn’t perfect, I don’t know what is.” She wiped the smile off her face and read out loud.
Wanted: Bride to live on a ranch in Montana. Must be willing to work hard and bear children.
“He sounds like a cowboy from way back in the old American west of the 1800s.”
An image of a man wearing a cowboy hat and chaps rose in Olivia’s mind. She wouldn’t admit that she was intrigued. She’d spent many an evening watching old westerns on her television and had dreamed like many young girls of being rescued by a man on a white horse and riding off into the sunset.
“Look at him,” Lilianna said. “He’s even good looking. That strong chin and piercing eyes.” She sighed. “If you don’t go after him, I just might.”
Olivia took the phone from her and glanced down at the image, hating to admit Lilianna was right. The man looked at her as if staring into her very soul. Awareness rippled through her body, coiling tightly in her belly.
“Caught your interest, didn’t he,” Lilianna whispered.
He had.
Olivia read the ad again.
Wanted: Bride to live on a ranch in Montana. Must be willing to work hard and bear children.
She scrolled further down to the part Lilianna hadn’t read aloud.
Undaunted groom, one leg short of a pair, loyal and respectful.
She frowned, squinted and read it again. “You didn’t read this part.”
Lilianna leaned over her shoulder. “I didn’t see it.”
“What do you think this means—one leg short of a pair?”
“One leg short…” Lilianna’s eyes rounded. “He only has one leg.” Her face fell. “Well, shoot. And I thought we had a winner.”
Olivia read more of the man’s background. “Prior military, Purple Heart recipient. Lili, he lost his leg serving his country.”
“Sounds like an honorable man. But we can keep looking.” She reached for the cell phone.
Olivia turned away without giving it back. Something about the former warrior’s face resonated with something deep inside herself. “No. I don’t want to look at another.”
“Fine. Then we go through a list of all of your acquaintances. Surely, there’s a man amongst them who would make a suitable partner and father.”
“No,” Olivia said. “Actually, I think everything you’ve been saying is right. I need to find a place where I can remain out of the public’s eye.”
“If you mean hide, then you’re right.” Lilianna paced the church aisle. “Where would be the best place to hide for the next ten months? Preferably a place with eligible bachelors. Eligible, desperate bachelors.”
An idea took root and blossomed in Olivia’s chest. She sat in one of the pews, hunkered over the phone and began typing.
“Olivia?”
“Shh.” She kept typing, concentrating on what she wanted to say. Then she held up the phone, snapped a picture of herself and submitted her response.
“Olivia?” Lilianna snatched the phone from her hands. “What have you done?”
“I think I just accepted a proposal of marriage.” Her heart pounded against her ribs, and she felt just a little queasy. But not nearly as nauseated as she’d felt every time she’d said yes to her two previous fiancés. What she’d just done was perhaps the most spontaneous and…crazy thing she’d ever done in her life. But sometimes, a person had to step outside the lines in order to make things happen.
“Sweetie, what have you done?”
“You can read my response. It’s out there, but I didn’t use my full name. I used the name Aurelia George.”
Lilianna found her response and fell into a pew, her face pale.
“Woman with biological clock ticking seeks groom with a family in mind. Willing to work hard and bear children. When can we meet?”
“Oh, dear Lord. You’re kidding, right?” Lilianna shook her head and the stared at Olivia. “Please tell me this is all a bad dream.”
Olivia’s lips twisted. “Lili, this was your idea. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”
“But he’s only got one leg,” she whispered.
“Therefore, he’s got to be a little desperate. I need a man who’s just desperate enough make this work.” Olivia smiled, feeling more lighthearted than she had in months. She waved to the man standing guard at the door to the little church. “Collin,” she called out.
The man checked out the window beside the exit before he turned to join Olivia in the aisles. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you up for a visit to the US?” She slid a side-eye in his direction. Olivia had done a thorough background check on Collin O’Bannon, but she couldn’t remember everything. Only that he’d come highly recommended as a bodyguard. “You’re from somewhere in the US, correct?”
“Yes. Maine.”
“Good.” She leaned close. “Ever been to Montana?”
He nodded. “Went elk hunting there with my father.”
Hunting was a good, outdoor sport. But she needed him to be closer than a neighbor, if she was going to pull this off. “Ever done any ranching?”
“As a matter of fact…no.”
“Do you know anything about horses or cattle?”
“Only that one we eat, and the other we don’t.”
She chewed on her bottom lip.
“You’re not seriously considering marrying this one-legged cowboy from Montana, are you?”
A hope bloomed in Olivia’s chest and spread outward until it lit her face with a smile. “That’s exactly what I’m considering.” She grabbed Lilianna’s hand. “Come on, we have a lot to do in a short amount of time, if Mr. Gavin Blackstock accepts my response.”
Chapter 2
Two days later…
Gavin paced the length of the sidewalk in front of the bus station, forcing himself to walk with as little of a limp as possible. He’d been walking with a prosthetic leg for over two years, long enough he should have mastered it by now. Hell, it didn’t matter. He’d laid it on the line in his advertisement. Or rather, Lori had. One leg short of a pair. Holy shit. He couldn’t believe he’d actually received a response to that nonsense. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve done in my entire life.”
“Give the woman a chance.” Lori stood nearby, her gaze on the main road leading into Eagle Rock, Montana. “You saw her photo. She’s not bad looking. In fact, she’s beautiful.”
“In that case, what’s wrong with her?” Gavin couldn’t believe the first day his advertisement had been posted that he’d received over fifty proposals. He’d reviewed each one out of morbid curiosity, with no intention of taking any one of the women as his wife. Just how many desperate women were out there? He suspected as many as there were desperate men. Including him.
By the time he’d found Aurelia’s photo and response, all of the women had turned into a hazy blur of faces. “This is ludicrous,” he’d said. “You can’t advertise for a wife. It has to be done the old-fashioned way through dating and getting to know each other.”
Lori rolled her eyes. “In that case, you’ll die alone. Move.” She’d taken his seat at the desk in the
foreman’s office. “When is Percy getting back from vacation?”
“Tomorrow. And I imagine he won’t appreciate that you and I have commandeered his office and computer for other than ranch business.”
“He’ll get over it. It’s all for a good cause.” Lori bent to the task of wading through all the applicants for the position of Mrs. Gavin Blackstock.
Gavin had been on the verge of laughing, but the joke was too much on him to be funny.
“What do you think about this one?” Lori pointed at the screen.
Gavin shook his head. “I could never marry a woman with a nose ring. It reminds me too much of the rings they used to put in bulls’ noses. I would never be able to look at her without that image popping into my mind. Not that I have anything against her piercings or tattoos.” He held up his hands. “But no. I couldn’t marry her.”
“She might be a really nice woman.”
“Sorry.”
“How about her?” Lori brought up the next contestant. “She’s your age, likes the outdoors and wants children.”
“No blue hair.”
“Hair color can change,” Lori muttered. “Okay, okay, moving on.” After Lori had clicked through half a dozen other responses, she paused, her brow dipping. “Hold the press,” she said, her tone laced with excitement. “I think we have a winner.”
“We don’t have a winner. I’m not going through with this. I can’t marry a complete stranger.”
“Listen to this,” Lori continued.
Woman with biological clock ticking seeks groom with a family in mind. Willing to work hard and bear children. When can we meet?
“So? Sounds like all the rest.”
“But she’s not like all the rest.” Lori looked up, a grin filling her face. “She looks positively normal. Well, a little better than normal. She’s beautiful.”
Intrigued, Gavin leaned over Lori’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Lori was right. The woman had long, wavy blond hair, and the most incredibly blue eyes that stared back at him from the computer screen.
He’d felt as if she were looking straight into his soul and knew everything there was to know about him.
Deep inside, though he’d never admit it, the woman’s image had touched Gavin.
Still, he couldn’t believe they had taken it this far. Within a week of submitting the advertisement, he was about to meet his mail-order bride.
“You tell any of the guys back at Brighter Days that she’s a mail-order bride, and I’ll personally make your life a living hell.”
“I told you, your secret is safe with me,” Lori chuckled. “Look at you. The unflappable Gavin Blackstock is shaking more than a baby rattlesnake with a new button.”
“I’m not shaking,” he grumbled and ran his hand through his hair for the fifth time since they’d arrived at the bus station. “This is a mistake. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Lori asked.
“She could have posted someone else’s picture,” Gavin stated, his tone flat, his brows descending.
“If she did, no worries. You gave each other the option to back out if you meet and you change your minds.”
“What if I can’t stand her, but she still wants to go through with this farce?”
“Then you have the option to back out.” Lori gripped his arms and stared into his eyes. “Hey, big guy, it’s going to be all right. Just give her a chance.” Lori’s eyes lit. “Oh, look. There’s the bus now.” She hooked Gavin’s arm, turning him toward the approaching vehicle of doom.
Gavin backed away a step.
Lori held tightly to his arm, her smile stiffening. “You’re not running away. She’s come a long way, the least you can do is meet the woman.”
“She probably has a rap sheet longer than my arm.”
“The mail-order bride site vets their applicants. They did a thorough background check on the woman.”
“She could have fed them lies. False name, false address. She could have stolen a dead person’s ID.”
“Again, you don’t have to go through with anything, but it won’t hurt to meet the woman.” Lori locked her arm around his. “And the bonus is that our new ranch hand is arriving on the same bus. Bet you didn’t remember that.”
“Ranch hand?” Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “What ranch hand?”
“You don’t remember Percy advertising for a ranch hand now that the senator is backing Brighter Days? Management thinks they’ll need more help.”
“I thought the idea behind the ranch was to let the recovering veterans do the work.”
Lori nodded. “It’s still the concept. But you have to admit that when Percy is gone, some of the more difficult work piles up.”
“I’m there,” Gavin argued. “I help. I don’t know why he thinks we need another full-time ranch hand.”
“From what I understand, Collin Banner needs this job as much as we need him.”
“Ahh. A paid guest?”
Lori shrugged. “From what I read in his letter to Hannah.”
“So, now you’re reading Hannah’s mail?” Gavin stared at the woman he thought he knew.
Again, Lori shrugged. “I might have been in her office when she was reading it. And I might have looked over her shoulder when I put the next day’s mail on her desk.”
The bus rolled to a stop in front of the small bus station. Martin Sims, the man who sold bus tickets at the bus station and also ran the local newspaper, stepped out of his office and pushed his Colorado Rockies baseball cap to the back of his head and stretched. “Only ten minutes late. I’d say that makes for a good day.”
As the bus door opened, Gavin’s gut twisted into a solid knot, and he held his breath, fully expecting his worst nightmare to step down.
A woman who had to be in her fifties, carrying an oversized tote bag filled with yarn and knitting needles was first to step down onto the sidewalk.
Gavin stiffened.
“Seriously, dude,” Lori hissed. “Get a grip. It’s not her.”
A man about Gavin’s age, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and thighs was next out. He carried a camouflage backpack and wore sunglasses. He glanced around, his face turning toward Gavin and Lori.
Because his eyes were hidden by the mirror shades, Gavin couldn’t get a reading on him. But he appeared to be prior-military by the way he carried himself—shoulders back, chin up, fists clenched in a loose ball. And the camouflage backpack had to be a carryover from his active duty days.
The man headed toward Gavin. “You wouldn’t happen to be from the Brighter Days Ranch, would you?”
Gavin nodded, only half-listening to the man, because his attention was still focused on the bus door.
Lori held out her hand. “We are. I’m Lori Mize, one of the long-term guests. You must be Collin Banner.”
Collin gripped her hand in a firm shake. “I am. I’m your new ranch hand.” He released Lori’s hand and held out his hand to Gavin.
“Gavin Blackstock, assistant foreman,” Gavin said, taking his focus off the bus long enough to shake hands with Banner. When he turned his attention back, he was disappointed to see the bus driver climbing down to shake hands with Martin Sims.
That was it?
His brow furrowing, Gavin exchanged a glance with Lori.
She shrugged.
“I have to collect my duffel bag, and then I’ll be ready to go,” Banner said.
The bus driver opened the undercarriage of the bus and pulled out a tattered, plaid suitcase and set it down in front of the woman with the bag of yarn. Then he reached into the bus again and pulled out a drab green duffel bag.
Banner grabbed the bag and slipped it over his shoulder. “That’s it for me.”
What the hell? Gavin glanced at the bus door again. Had he been stood up by his bride? Relief, disappointment and a spike of anger warred inside him. When he should be happy the woman was a no-show, he was dis
appointed he’d been proven right. You couldn’t order a bride over the internet. It just didn’t happen that way.
He shot another glance toward the woman with the yarn when she stood there, without moving. Surely, she wasn’t his bride. Just to be certain, he said the name loud enough she could hear and respond if it truly was her. “Aurelia.”
The woman tilted her head to the side. “Pardon me? Did you say something?”
“Aurelia?” he asked.
The older woman’s face lit in a smile. “Oh, that’s rich.” She slapped a hand to her thigh and laughed. “You think I’m Aurelia?”
Heat flowed up Gavin’s neck into his cheeks. “No, ma’am. My apologies.”
“I’m not Aurelia.” The older woman tipped her head toward the bus door. “But she is.”
Gavin turned in time to see a pair of long, shapely legs lead their owner down the steps of the bus to the sidewalk. The woman wore a tan trench coat. The hem of a powder-blue dress hung down below the coat and blue shoes matched the dress perfectly. A soft cream-colored scarf covered her head and shoulders, hiding her face from sight.
Then she pushed the scarf off her head and shook her long blond hair free. When she turned to face Gavin, he forgot how to breathe.
Aurelia George was everything and more than the photo she’d posted on the mail-order bride website.
Suddenly, Gavin couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t come up with words to greet his prospective bride. Then it hit him like a steamroller.
This knockout was his prospective bride. Holy hell! Now, what was he supposed to do?
“Bingo,” Lori said softly, and then leaned close. “Close your mouth, Gavin,” she whispered. “You look like a halfwit.”
Chapter 3
Olivia Aurelia St. George blinked against the bright Montana sunshine and smiled. The air was clean, the sky was bluer than any sky she could ever remember seeing, and she’d made it to Montana without being followed. So far, her plan was working. Now, all she had to do was convince her groom she was the real deal, and that she wanted to marry posthaste and start on that family.
When the bus had pulled to a stop, she’d been so excited about finally arriving that she’d knocked her purse over and spilled the entire contents all over the floor. It had taken her several minutes to find her belongings. Stepping down from the bus, she’d been shocked to see the man she was hanging all her hopes on was much better looking than his photograph. Not in a GQ way, but in a wickedly rugged way that set her heart pounding and her pulse on fire.
