Mail Order Brides of Wichita Falls Boxed Set (Historical Western Romance)

by Cyndi Raye

  “I’ll take that from you, ma’am,” a deep voice said. When Grace looked up in to the dark eyes of the man standing in front of her, she knew beyond a doubt it was her intended.

  A deep flush covered her cheeks when she realized how silly she must look swinging from the rail. “I apologize, sir, that was not very lady-like,” Grace muttered, covering a gloved hand over her cheek.

  His brow rose as he stared at her for a brief moment. Then he grinned. So she gave him one of her sweetest, biggest smiles and a curtsy. The blue and grey two piece dress she wore had velvet layers and tiny red roses sewed across the hem. She wore red gloves to match that came to her wrists, and a matching hat with a brim wide enough to hide the skin of her porcelain cheeks from the elements.

  “You must be Miss Holloway, then?” the man asked. Grace found him rather handsome if she had to say so herself. He was taller, much taller than her five foot five frame and the suit he wore didn’t hide the size of his muscles. He had a strong jawline as if he came from a working family. His honey-colored hair was neat and trimmed, a far cry from some of the men who rode the train. When he smiled at her, she was happy to see he had a great set of white teeth. If he was to be her husband, it sure would make it much easier if he had a smile that would be pleasing to look at.

  Grace stood there, eyeing him the same as he was doing to her. Just because she was a woman didn’t mean she couldn’t stare at a man. Besides, this one was about to become her husband. It helped he was sturdy and good to look at. She giggled at her treacherous thoughts then looked away.

  “You sure are full of smiles and giggles,” he told her. “I’m Dawson Sloan.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sloan. I’m pleased to meet you.” Her eyes danced with merriment. Grace was indeed happy. This town, the more she glanced around, was a far cry from the streets of New York City. She couldn’t wait to have a closer look.

  “My pleasure,” he said, although a frown began to appear.

  “Is something wrong, sir?” she asked. He didn’t answer but took her by the elbow and began to help her off the depot platform. They walked along the dusty street until he stopped in front of the parish.

  “This is it,” he said. “Are you ready to become Mrs. Sloan?”

  “Already?” she asked. “I thought I could at least tidy up some. Why, I had no idea I would be whisked off to the alter first thing.”

  “I didn’t have much choice. My house has one bedroom. I can’t let you spend the night there unless we are married. It wouldn’t be proper and I can’t sully your good name. Please, forgive me. It’s not my intention to be pushy.”

  Grace smiled. She knew the real reason why. She was an accountant and if his business was in trouble that meant he didn’t have the money to put her up at a boarding house or hotel for a long period of time. Getting married was the only option for a man with money troubles. “I understand. Well, then, Mr. Sloan, let’s do this.” She held out her arm and began to walk towards the door. He had no choice but to follow along.

  Reverend Conners and his wife greeted Grace as if she were a welcoming guest. Their friendly chatter made it easier to get through the ceremony. Afterwards, when Daniel Conners said to kiss the bride, Grace actually took a step forward. She wasn’t one to make mountains out of molehills, nope. She usually ploughed through things full speed ahead, worrying about the minuscule things afterwards. Besides, she was anxious to take a look at the business books.

  Except the kiss almost floored her and she forgot the reason why she was here in the first place. Dawson stood before her, holding her one hand as the preacher announced, You may kiss the bride!

  Dawson didn’t hesitate at all. He leaned forward and placed his mouth over hers, then pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. Grace’s eyes flew open before she slammed them shut when she realized how close he was. She felt his arm across her back and leaned in to the kiss. Her head went back causing her hat to drop to the floor.

  The preacher made some strange noises with his throat. Dawson pulled himself away, taking a step back, looking pleasingly surprised. Grace immediately noticed the loss. Goodness, gracious, she’d just been kissed thoroughly by her new husband and she was speechless. Not only was he handsome, he kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.

  What a new, wonderful world she was coming into. Grace smiled. “Well, um, that was nice.”

  “Not bad,” Dawson agreed. He grinned and gave her a wink before the preacher had them sign the wedding document.

  There was a knock on the door before it opened by a woman in a beautiful, long, blue dress. She held herself in such a regal way, Grace had an idea who she was. Immediately, she went to her. “You must be Miss Adeline, Ruby’s aunt,” Grace said, holding out her gloved hand.

  “Yes, dear. I am and please call me Addie. You are now Grace Sloan, I presume? I apologize for missing the ceremony, I was caught up in a serious ordeal.”

  Grace realized she was indeed Mrs. Sloan now. “Yes, I am.” She kind of liked her new name. It sounded, well, important. Looking around the room at the people there, Grace decided so far she liked this place and the people weren’t bad either. She could easily make a home and a name for herself here. After all, she had a degree in accounting. She was certain the business would bloom after she got a hold of things.

  “Already thinking of the books, aren’t you, dear?” She hadn’t realized Miss Adeline had leaned over and spoke for her ears alone.

  Grace smiled. “I am,” she told her. “I am happy that I decided to come here but now I’m itching to get started. If it weren’t for the job offer of looking over the books, I probably wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. It was a long journey.”

  “Then you must get some rest before anything else.” Miss Adeline excused herself and spoke to Dawson quietly. He immediately looked up to stare at her. What was she doing, Grace wondered.

  Dawson announced their leaving. “Thank you kindly for the reception, but my new wife has to be exhausted from her journey. We’ll take our leave now.”

  After saying their good-byes, the two left the parish, turning right towards the saloon she could see in the distance. Grace became nervous when she realized they were starting to walk towards the more shady end of town. “Where are we going?” she asked, a bit nervous when one of the cowboys rode by slowly, the clip clop of horse’s hooves hitting the dust as he stared at Grace.

  “No worries, my place is right on the corner. As long as you don’t cross the street, you’ll be fine. Stay away from the saloon and no one will bother you.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice a bit nervous. She was holding his arm and clung on a bit tighter. New York City had some seedy areas of the city but she knew what parts to avoid, especially at night. To be honest, she never went out alone at night, not if she could help it. Here, with a saloon close by and rowdy cowboys staring her down, Grace wondered how safe this town was.

  He reached over and patted her arm. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

  She glanced at him as they walked down the street. He smiled before looking away as she studied his profile. He seemed confident how he held himself and walked like a man with dignity. Yet, there was something about his eyes that bothered her. He had such dark circles underneath, and a sadness that seemed to be buried deep down in a haunted soul. Grace was good at reading people. There was more to this man than anyone realized. As his wife, she assumed it would be her duty to get to the bottom of things.

  Several men nodded and tipped their hat to her as they strolled along, taking their time so she could see the town. Dawson pointed out several buildings that the land title company owned. A cabin set back on a side street was built not too long ago. It sat away from the main area. “I like the location of the cabin,” she told him.

  “It’s set back pretty far and that’s the way the new occupants like to live. Until the street is built up with other homes, I’m afraid they’re all alone on the side street. Most people buy right alo
ng main street to be in the thick of things.”

  “Can we take a look at all the company property?”

  “Sure can. Let’s get you settled and rested and tomorrow we’ll go on a tour of the holdings of Sloan Brothers Land & Title Company.”

  “Your brother is your partner, I assume?”

  He hesitated for a moment. “Yes,” Dawson admitted. “He owns the majority share. I have twenty-five percent in the business, he has the rest. Truth be told, Ben isn’t happy with me. Land sales have been down and the business is in the red. If I don’t bring sales back up, I’m certain he’ll close me down.” Dawson stopped, turning to her. He took her other arm, a pleading look in his eyes.

  Grace was in trouble. He was adorable and so handsome that she wanted to stand on her tip toes and give him a big kiss. But it wasn’t appropriate to do so in broad daylight. Instead, she looked up and smiled. “I’m good at accounting. Why not let me take a look at things?”

  He stared at her, grinning.

  Grace stared right back, a smile upon her own face. “It was one of the reasons why you agreed to marry me, sir. I’m no slouch. I certainly would not have married you if not for the accounting job at hand. So, let’s be honest with each other up front and acknowledge that we are both here for one purpose, to make the business a winner and keep your brother from shutting it down.”

  Such relief shone in his eyes that Grace couldn’t help but reach up a hand and rest it on his cheek. As she realized what she did, her hand quickly moved but he caught it first. The warmth from his fingers took her by surprise and she stepped back as if caught unaware. “You have no idea how much those words mean to me,” he told her, leaning in closer.

  Grace happened to look up to notice a few women standing in front of the mercantile staring open-mouthed at the two of them. She wanted to holler across the street and tell them to watch out before a bug flies in their mouths but she behaved herself. Besides, no lady would act so improper to suggest such a thing.

  Dawson followed her line of vision. “We best be moving along, before we tarnish your good reputation,” he suggested. He began to walk towards the title company, a small building sitting on the corner of main street and a side street. “This is it, home.”

  Grace stopped to take a look at her new home. It was as small as a cracker box. How in the world was she going to live there with a man like Dawson Sloan?

  Chapter 3

  Dawson pulled a set of keys from his pocket as they stepped up on the wooden porch in front of his business. He knew the exact moment she became quiet and grinned to himself. She obviously thought this little abode was their new home. Little did she know the house behind the shop was his also. He was going to have fun with this as long as she didn’t get too upset. He needed her. Not even sure why he felt the need to tease her, it just felt good inside. She seemed like such a smart lady who loved to laugh. He liked making her do so.

  He flung open the front door as the bell clanged loudly. “Well, what do you think?”

  Dawson watched her eyes flicker as they took in the small room. His large desk sat in front of the only window in the room, its bulky wooden frame taking up most of the space. A pot-bellied stove sat in the middle of the floor with an iron bin to keep extra coals, along with a shovel for dishing them in to the stove. The rest of the small room was bare, except for a long bench against a bare wall where guests would sit to wait their turn to see the land agent. The far wall had one long, heavy looking dark curtain from ceiling to floor, where a door was hiding the structure behind the office.

  She took a few steps in, looking beyond the pot-bellied stove. “Where do we sleep?” she asked, her voice almost a mere whisper.

  “I rarely sleep,” he said, humor in his voice, even though he told the truth. Then she looked up at him, those blue eyes sceptical.

  A large grin slowly spread across her face. “Mr. Sloan, you are joshing me. I’m certain this is not where we live.” She marched over to the dark curtain and pulled it aside. There was another doorway with a paned window filtering in some light. She peeked outside. “Ah ha! I believe you were trying to fool me, sir.”

  Dawson laughed aloud, surprising himself. It was the the first time in ages he had let loose straight from his gut. He strolled to the door and unlocked it with another key. “Watch your step.” Through the door and down the two steps, they went back up two other steps before he unlocked yet another door. “This is your new home.”

  He grinned when she turned to him, her mouth opened wide.

  “It’s nothing like I imagined,” she told him, shock still all over her beautiful face. She was so lovely and when she smiled like that, Dawson ached to pull her in his arms. He had been missing something in his life and it turned out to be companionship.

  Dawson shook himself. He had to remember he didn’t deserve to be happy or to have someone look at him like she was doing. For a few moments, he almost forgot about the tragedy. He couldn’t ever forget, it wouldn’t be right. Not when the whole family suffered such a horrific loss and it was still his fault. He had no right to be happy. Ever. It was best to remember that and forget about a relationship with someone. He put the suitcase down and turned to leave. “I’ll be in the office, there are several things I need to do,” he said in a brisk, rough voice, then left her standing in the middle of the room.

  The surprised look on her face bothered him immensely, yet he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t deserve to enjoy himself and laughing again felt so good and yet reminded him he had no right to do so.

  <><>

  Grace had never been in such a lovely home before. A dark, heavy wooden table was sitting in the center of the large kitchen with several high-backed chairs and two benches tucked up tight against the table. A beautiful linen tablecloth made of lace covered the top, and a glass vase with wilted flowers sat in the middle. Grace’s first thought was to find some fresh flowers to replace the wilted ones. A large modern cook stove sat in the far corner of the room, along with several pieces of wood shelving, stocked with various items.

  Working her way to the next room, Grace was amazed at the trinkets on various antique tables and several cushioned seating areas. In the parlor was a beautiful Victorian carved walnut set of chairs and a settee, along with several oil paintings hung on one wall. Immediately, her accountant’s eye began to add up the wealth in the rooms. If his business was in dire

  straits, selling off some of these items may be the answer to his problems. Grace wondered why he hadn’t thought of this before.

  First, she’d have to see the books and all his holdings. A spry in her step at the challenge ahead had Grace picking out the most expensive pieces. Where in the world did a land title agent get all these fine pieces of furniture?

  A solid oak door off the parlor called to her. Grace turned the cold knob to find a beautiful French Henri II queen bed, the coverlet hand-quilted in beautiful shades of material that dropped her jaw open wide. She let her fingers run over the beautiful hand-carved designs on the headboard. An old Mahogany Province armoire sat against the one wall, along with a carved wooden padded chair. On the other side of the room was a fireplace, a rocker tucked close by. Grace imaged herself lying in this bed on a cold winter’s night, the fire crackling and warming the big room.

  Her mind imagined her new husband curled up with her, his arms around her as they stared in to the fire, romantic flames flickering in a darkened room. Slowly, Grace lowered herself to the bed, curling on her side as she slid in to oblivion dreaming about her new life and husband.

  <><>

  Grace woke with a start. A small wool blanket was draped over her shoulders. She blinked her eyes several times to see her husband pick up a fire iron to push the lit embers around. After some time, flames flickered, shadowing his profile as he bent down in front of the fireplace. She watched quietly as he removed his jacket, setting it over a hook on the back of the door. He loosened the top buttons of his shirt, pulling the tail from his waist and
stretching his arms out in front of him before lowering himself to the rocker close by.

  A surge of fear engulfed Grace. It was their marriage night. Would he demand his rights tonight? She wasn’t even sure how she felt about this new position she found herself in. Married to a man who was incredibly handsome and yet neither one wanted a real marriage. He wanted her to fix his business and she was itching to get her hands on him, er, his books. When he turned his head, she slammed her eyes shut, praying he hadn’t noticed she stared so. She heard him sigh. It was a tired sigh, as if he was too exhausted to move from his spot.

  A few minutes went by so Grace peeked to find his eyes closed, his long lashes lowered against his rough skin. He lifted a hand in his sleep and rubbed his clean shaven jaw before letting his hand drop to his lap. Grace sighed. She watched him as he slept, wondering if he would indeed come to bed. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he did. Her eyes drooped as she fell asleep once again watching him as he rested.

  Something woke her up. Grace pushed herself from the bed to find the rocker empty. She shook the wool blanket from her shoulders and followed the noise she heard near the kitchen. The back door closed quietly. Frowning, Grace noticed her luggage was still by the door. She picked up her carpet bag to shift through her belongings, finding a shawl to throw over her shoulders.

  It was dark outside, the streets quiet. Grace had no idea why he left but she wanted to know why he would go somewhere on his wedding night. Oh, she knew it wasn’t a real wedding, but for a man to leave his bride was confusing. She took the few steps to the office and turned the knob. It was open. Good, he was concerned about his work and decided to stay up late and work on his business. Grace would offer to help now. There was no sense going back to bed since she had a hearty nap.