“I remember that picnic. That was a fun day.”
“It was because I spent it with you. All the time I’ve spent with you is fun.” He reached out and caught her hand again, and this time, she moved toward him. “So yes, it’s sudden and unexpected, but it really has been going on longer than we realized. Does that answer your concerns? What else can I say or do to convince you? I’m completely in love with you in every possible way, and I want to marry you.”
Sarah looked into his eyes. She could see the sincerity in them, and that warmed her clean through. But there was one major stumbling block, one thing she couldn’t move past. “I’m sorry, Stephen, but I don’t want to leave the Brody. I have a sense of belonging there, something I’ve looked for ever since my parents died and I’d never been able to find until the day Mr. Brody hired me. When I came back after my trip to Denver, I realized I could never leave it. Perhaps I’m crazy. Perhaps I’m just a little orphan girl looking for a place to call her own, but I can’t leave it. I just can’t.”
Stephen’s grin grew so wide, for a moment, she wondered if it went all the way around his head and met in the back. “Is that all? Your only objection?”
“Yes, but I thought it was a pretty large one.”
“As luck would have it, I rather like this town, and I’m perfectly willing to move here. In fact, I’m perfectly willing to buy us a home right near the hotel so you can be my wife and keep your job. What have you to say about that?”
Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’d do that for me?”
“It wasn’t even a hard choice. You love this place—I’ve known that from the moment you mentioned it. I figured you wouldn’t want to leave, and when I thought about it, I’m not all that attached to Denver. I’ll travel back and see my family once in a while, but as long as I’m with you, I could be happy anywhere.”
“And your mother?”
“Gilbert has sworn to stay by her side as long as it’s needed. When I told her I was coming to propose, she was so excited, she sent me right out the door.”
“Wait—you told your mother you were going to propose to me?”
He laughed. “Well, not exactly. I told her the what. I didn’t tell her the who. I figured she’d find out soon enough, and because she’d been given the news one piece at a time, she’d handle it better.”
“I don’t know. It sounds like a dangerous plan to me.”
“If you have a better one, I’d love to hear it.”
She shook her head. “Sadly, I don’t have one.”
He tugged her a little closer until they were toe to toe. “What do you say, Miss Palmer? I’m offering to move to Topeka, change careers, buy a home near the hotel, and love you the rest of my days. I’m even proposing in a coat closet—that’s how much I want to be with you. What do you say? Will you marry me?”
She pursed her lips for a moment as if pretending to think, then grinned. “I will. But on one condition.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“You’ve never proposed in a coat closet before, right?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
“Well, I’ve never been kissed in a coat closet before. Do you think we could arrange that?”
He smiled and pulled her in close. “Yes, I absolutely, definitely think we can arrange that.”
The End
Now for a special sneak peek—chapter one of Johanna, book one of Dakota Bound by authors Liza Westbrook and Kirsten Osbourne.
Chapter One
Johanna found her voice at long last. "An arranged marriage? Father, you've got to be kidding. It's 1875. We're well beyond that nonsense. Why in the world would you think I'd ever consent to this?" She wasn't certain if she was more shocked or angry, but both were pretty strong emotions just then.
She sat across from her father's massive desk and tried not to explode. Her nostrils were flared, sucking in as much air as she could get, and it still wasn't enough. She felt trapped—suffocating as if she were locked in a small cupboard and forgotten. Actually, at the moment it would be nice to be forgotten. Anything would be nicer than being told she had to marry an old man three times her age at her father's whim. No, she wouldn't do it! She had never in her life thought her parents would resort to this. They had always been loving and kind. This was unreasonable and simply unacceptable.
Father's brows drew down, half covering his eyes, and his face grew darker. "It wasn't a request, Johanna. We've been telling you to find a husband for two years now and you've shown no interest. None a'tall. At eighteen, your mother was married with a baby with another on the way." His Irish temper showed for just a moment before he got it under control. "Edmund Berkeley is an old friend, and he is not only kind and generous, he's also very wealthy. You'll never want for anything with him."
"But he won't be staying here, now, will he?" She already knew the answer. She had no desire to go back to New York City. She'd spent the first five years of her life there, before Congress had passed the Homestead Act, and she had vague memories of the tall buildings and people rushing everywhere. No, she wouldn't be a part of that again, especially not for a man thrice her age.
John McDonough scoffed, sitting back in his chair. "Of course not. You can honeymoon here. You're welcome back for vacation any time you like, but you'll be returning to New York with him." His tone of voice, and the look he leveled at his eldest daughter, brooked no argument.
Johanna had enough, she stood and slapped her hands on the desk, leaning forward. "No. I shan't. You have no right—"
"I have every right—"
She yelled, "No, I have every right! If women can own land here with the homesteading laws, then you have no legal control over me. I will not marry a man three times my age and leave the only home I can remember. Send him back. I won't do it." She straightened and crossed her arms, glaring daggers at her father. She knew her anger was getting the best of her, and he would blame it on her red-headed, Irish temper, but that couldn't be further from the truth. What he demanded—it disgusted her more than anything in her life. How dare he treat her like a child, expecting her to comply with his every wish? She was a woman and expected to be treated like one.
He leaned back and steepled his fingers. "I can't. He's already on his way. He'll be here in two weeks."
Johanna's jaw dropped and she sputtered. "You already made plans without consulting me? Without my permission?" She stared at her father as if seeing him for the first time. Had her real father been replaced by an evil twin?
Now he leaned forward, his hands flat on the desk. "That's why it's called an 'arranged marriage.' I don't need your permission. This is how it was done in my father's time, in the village back in Ireland where he was a boy. I see no dishonor in following the tradition when you won't find a man for yourself."
She threw her hands up the in the air and circled the chair. "And how am I supposed to do that when you have me working sunrise to sunset in this place? How am I supposed to do that when you never let me go anywhere alone? Never let me spend time with a man? You scared them all away!"
Father snorted. "I did no such thing. And if you really wanted a man, you would have found a way around it."
The anger flared again, then went icy cold. "So, you're telling me I should've broken your rules to find a husband, but that I have no rights as your daughter. I might as well start wearing rags and call you master then!" She didn't mean that, but in her anger the words sprang out of her mouth before she could stop them.
John McDonough stood, his mustache quivering with his obvious rage. “That can be arranged. Actually, that’s a good idea. Maybe serving as a maid for a week or two will instill some respect and humility.”
“What? No—” While she had no qualms about doing her share of the work, she hated when he punished her by forcing her to work as a maid. The uniform, as well as the dirty work, drove her crazy. She much preferred the registration desk, greeting people and taking payment.
"You h
ave no choice, Johanna. None. You have disrespected me and shown yourself prideful and disobedient. Two weeks of maid duty. Inform Margaret and get to work.” He sat back down and returned to his papers, disregarding her as he always did.
“But—” she tried one last time, knowing even as she did he wouldn't give in to her pleas. He was too much of a despot to care what anyone else thought in his little empire.
He didn’t even look up. “Out. We're finished here. You'll marry Edmund Berkeley, and that's the end of it."
She turned and stormed to the door, his final words thrown like a knife to her heart. "At least you'll finally have the wealth to go along with your superior attitude. You've certainly acted rich for long enough."
She stiffened, but didn't let him see how much those words hurt.
Johanna yanked open the door, her nephew Jesse tumbling forward. The little beast had been listening to the whole thing. “Jesse McDonough, shame on you! Get on out of here before I tell your father about your shenanigans.” His father was her favorite sibling, and he was usually on her side.
The curly, red-headed boy glared up at her. “It’s not like you were trying to keep it private or anything. I heard you clear out to the front of the hotel. Everybody heard.”
She reddened, her lips thinning. “Regardless, listening like that is rude.” She wanted to scream, but apparently she'd already done enough of that.
He stood, almost taller than her now, even at only thirteen years. “It sounds like you’re the rude one, talking back to Grand-da like that.”
Without thinking she called him a name she knew would hurt him and almost immediately regretted it. "Pest!" She wasn’t usually prone to calling names, but the fight with her father, and then finding out her nephew had been eavesdropping the whole time, had put her over the edge. His eyes welled with tears and he sucked in a quivering lip, then turned and ran down the hall and out the front door.
"Shut the door behind you!" Father called out. Evidently he’d missed the entire exchange with Jesse.
Ignoring her father, she stormed down the hall, past the dining area, and toward her younger sister working behind the front desk. Margaret looked up and must have seen some of what Johanna felt because her sister took a step back, then gathered herself and came around the counter to put an arm around Johanna.
“What happened? I heard yelling but couldn’t understand the words. Father again?” She sounded sympathetic. Maybe Margaret would give her the sympathetic ear she needed. Sometimes her sister could act almost like a friend.
Johanna nodded. “Yes. He’s arranged a marriage. For me.” Of all people her father could have arranged a marriage for, she should have been at the bottom of the list. Everyone knew she hated not being in control of her own life.
Margaret smiled brightly. “Really?” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Oh, that’s wonderful!”
Johanna’s heart sank. So much for sympathy from these quarters. “No, Margaret, it’s not! He wants to marry me off to some old man from New York. Who’s the marriage for, really? Me? Or the connections and wealth it will give Father?” She couldn’t help the bitter tone that crept into her voice.
Her sister gave a very unladylike snort. “That’s ridiculous. Father wouldn’t gain anything. He's already the wealthiest man in these parts, and he’s been friends with Edmund for decades. The man lost his wife a few years back and has been lonely. This way father helps a friend and gives you a wealthy husband, setting you up for life. You should be grateful.”
Johanna stiffened, staring at her sister in shock. “Grateful? I can’t believe you! And how did you know who he was marrying me to since I didn't tell you? What kind of sister doesn't give fair warning about something this monstrous?” She took a step closer to Margaret, trying to intimidate her. "You should be on my side!"
Margaret continued to fold the cloth napkins. “I am on your side. I just see things differently than you do.” Her younger sister went behind the large desk and rummaged beneath it, then returned with a long black dress and white apron and handed it to Johanna. “Here you go. You did say Father assigned you maid duty for a week or so, didn't you?”
Johanna glared at her sister, then yanked the clothing out of her hands. “No, I didn't! Were you eavesdropping?” She glared at her sister, wondering what was wrong with her, first hiding things from her, and then listening at doors.
Margaret smiled. “That’s what sisters are for, don’t you know?” She obviously wasn't even ashamed of her behavior.
Johanna threw the clothes in her sister's face before pushing her to the floor. "There are days that I think I'd do better having no sisters than a scheming shrew like you!"
Margaret jumped up, going at Johanna with her hands curled into claws. "You think you're better than everyone else, but you're not!"
Johanna unpinned her sister's hair at the back, letting the beautiful switch of hair fall to the floor. "At least I don't have to pretend to have longer hair than I do." She spun on her heel and left, not caring that she left her sister sputtering after her. Margaret was one of the vainest women Johanna knew, and she was happy to aim her blow straight to where it would hurt the most.
If you would like to purchase Johanna, click here.
***
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The Kansas Crossroads Series:
A New Beginning
A Free Heart
The Dark and the Dawn
A Clean Slate
A Clear Hope
The Whisper of Morning
A Careless Wind
A Narrow Road
The Bitter and the Sweet
And many more to be announced …
The Nurses of New York series:
Sea of Strangers
Cause of Conflict
And many more to be announced …
The American Mail-Order Brides series:
Hope: Bride of New Jersey
Tabitha: Bride of Missouri
The Bitter and the Sweet (Kansas Crossroads Book 9) Page 13
