by Natalie Dean
Bridget took the little pink bag and opened it slowly, her eyes widening when she saw what was inside. A beautiful gold band with a tiny blue sapphire caught the light, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide.
“What is this?”
“It’s a ring,” he said.
“I know it’s a ring! I have eyes! Why are you giving it to me?” Her voice was just a little too high now.
“Because you’re my wife. When you marry someone, you’re supposed to give them a ring.” He cleared his throat. “And because I want you to know that I want this to work,” he sighed.
She looked at him, her brows furrowed. “What?”
“Until now, this has been just a business arrangement. You signed a contract to fulfill some obligations, and I agreed to take care of you. That’s not what I want anymore.”
“I don’t understand…”
“I want this to be more than just a marriage on paper.” He reached out and took her hand, slipping the ring onto her delicate finger.
Bridget put a hand to her chest, struggling to get any kind of words out. Everything was stuck in the back of her throat. She stared at the beautiful ring, opened her mouth and closed it again. Finally, she covered her mouth with her hand before throwing her arms around Jack and holding him close for a long moment. The tears in her eyes burned, but she managed to hold them back.
“Why are you doing this?” she finally whispered.
“Why not?” he said, cupping her cheek gently. “I want this to work, Bridget. I want it to be real. We got off to a real rough start, and I want to fix it.”
Bridget put her hand over his, nodding slowly. She wanted it too. She wasn’t ready to admit her feelings for him, but she wanted this too. She wanted a relationship with him. He looked down at her, leaning in closer, taking a deep breath.
“Are you willing to try to make this marriage work?”
Bridget didn’t answer with words. Instead, she closed the space between them, her arms wrapped around his neck as they toppled back into the pile of hay. His lips were softer than she ever thought possible and when they met lights exploded behind her eyes. Her heart swelled with excitement, and a grin lingered on her lips even as they kissed. When they parted, her eyes were half closed, and she leaned down to steal another brief, tender kiss.
“I’m a lot to handle. Are you up to it?”
Jack chuckled, his hands resting on her waist as their lips met again. “You are definitely a handful, but you’re worth it.”
That single phrase told Bridget everything she needed to know. Jack wasn’t a wealthy man in New York, but he was the man for her.
Chapter 11
After that night in the barn, life started getting better. Bridget was far more willing to accept the role she’d fallen into, and she was excelling at it. She enjoyed being a mother far more than she thought she would.
“Get your shoes on, Roan! You’re holding us up!” Bridget called up to the loft.
“I’m reading!”
She knew that Roan wasn’t reading. She was only six years old, after all! She recognized a few words here and there, but she was still learning, and Bridget was happy to encourage her education. When she’d first arrived in Billings, she’d noticed that many of the women struggled to read anything beyond basic signs. It horrified her, and the last thing she wanted was for Roan to be one of those women, standing around, lost as she tried to read signs for a town she wasn’t familiar with.
So, she waited patiently until she heard the sound of the book slamming closed and Roan scuttling across the loft.
“Done!”
She started down the ladder but missed one of the steps and yelped as she fell back. Bridget gasped and threw her arms out, catching the little girl, though her weight caught Bridget off guard and they both tumbled to the ground.
“Roan! Are you okay?” Bridget asked, clutching the girl to her chest.
“I’m fine!” she sang, throwing her arms around Bridget. “You caught me, Mommy!”
Bridget never expected her heart to flutter the way it did when Roan called her ‘mommy.' She’d felt guilty about it at first, knowing that she wasn’t Roan’s mother, but if it made Roan happy, Bridget wasn’t going to argue.
“You need to be more careful, child!” she scolded, standing up and setting Roan on her feet. “Now go get your shoes on, or we’ll miss the candy cart!”
Roan gasped and ran to the door, nearly falling over as she struggled to get her boots on. She wasn’t the most graceful child in the world, but grace would come with time unless she took after Bridget. Once Roan had her shoes on, Bridget took the girl’s hand in her own, and they started into town. It was her first time going into town alone since the incident with Willam. She was a bit nervous, but she wasn’t about to let it show. She was far too prideful for that.
“You stay close to me when we get to town, do you understand?”
“Are there bad guys?” she asked, giggling and wiggling her fingers playfully.
Bridget didn’t smile at the joke. Little Roan had been so well protected her entire life. Her father had kept her sheltered, and while Bridget understood, she also knew that evil people lurked around the most unsuspecting corners.
“There might be,” she murmured.
The seriousness of Bridget’s tone made Roan’s face fall. Her chubby little fingers wrapped around Bridget’s and she squeezed them. “I’ll stay close, Mommy.”
“Good girl.”
The walk into town wasn’t a very long one, and when they arrived, all heads turned towards them. People glowered, their eyes fixed on Bridget and Roan, but Bridget didn’t flinch. She just pulled Roan closer and went to a red and white striped cart. There were few comforts in this harsh land, but one of them was the candy man. He parked his cart right outside of the train station and was often the first and only comfort new mail order brides received.
Today was no different. The elderly man who ran the cart reached out and touched a young woman’s hand, patting it tenderly as he offered her a piece of taffy. Fat tears ran down the woman’s cheeks as she thanked the man for his kindness. Bridget looked on sadly as the woman wandered down the road, clutching a suitcase to her chest.
They stepped up to the cart, and Roan put a finger to her lip, talking to the old man who chuckled at her indecisiveness. “You want a hard candy, little lady?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“That’ll be two cents.”
Roan gripped Bridget’s skirt and yanked on it, pulling it hard “Mommy! Can I have two pennies?”
“Of course.” She reached into a small satchel and pulled out two pennies, handing them over to the child.
As they collected their things and started back down the road, Bridget spotted Willam. He was leaning against a wall, his eyes narrowed and dark. “Surprised you showed your face again so soon.”
“I am not the one who should be ashamed,” she replied, though she kept walking, squeezing Roan’s hand.
“You don’t belong here!” Willam snapped, starting after them.
Bridget picked up the pace, keeping distance between herself and the brute. “You won’t ever belong here! You’re going to wilt and die like all the other precious little flowers that come through this town! You weren’t made for a place like this!” The words dripped with anger, and every syllable was spat as if they left a bad taste in his mouth.
Bridget felt her heart beating a little faster, but she just kept moving, keeping her chin up. She wasn’t going to let that man get under her skin. At least, that’s what she told herself.
They made it back to the house, and when Bridget closed the door, she slammed it a little too hard. The bolt on the door rattled, and Roan jumped, surprised by the noise. Bridget didn’t turn around for a long moment, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Silence engulfed them, and the only thing that could be heard outside was the sweet song of birds chirping and the wind blowing through the prairie grass.
“Mommy?”
/> Bridget didn’t turn around. She kept her head down as doubt began to creep in her mind. “Yes, sweet Roan?’
“Are you going to die? Like the man said?”
Bridget looked over her shoulder, her own eyes wide. Tears glistened in the corner of Roan’s eyes, and she wiped her face with her hand, leaving little streaks of dirt behind. Bridget’s gaze softened as she kneeled down and lifted Roan into her arms. She carried her to the fireplace and sat her down on the chair that Jack usually occupied. She dipped a handkerchief into a pot of water she’d intended to use for cooking and wiped at the dirt.
“No. I’m not going to die.”
Roan took in a breath that rattled her entire body. “I don’t want you to die. My first mommy died, and I miss her…I don’t want to miss you too.”
Bridget closed her eyes. All this time she’d been under the assumption that Roan didn’t know her mother’s fate. Roan sniffled and wrapped her arms around Bridget. “Daddy thinks I don’t know. He told me she went away, but I know what he meant. I didn’t want to hurt daddy, so I didn’t say anything, but I know what dying is, mommy and I don’t want you to go away.”
For a long time, Bridget didn’t say anything. She finally wrapped her arms around Roan’s thin body and held her close. “I’m not going to go anywhere, sweet thing. I like being your mommy. Did you know that?” she asked, smiling sadly and pulling away. “I never wanted to be anyone’s mommy until I met you.”
“Really?” Roan whispered.
“Really,” Bridget promised, kissing her forehead. “We’re going to be happy. The three of us, together. I’m going to make sure of it, and that man? He’s just angry. Angry people always lash out and try to ruin good people’s fun.”
Even though Roan believed her and nodded, taking a breath and finally calming down, Bridget wasn’t sure she believed her own words.
___________
Darkness eventually settled over the prairie, and Jack still wasn’t home. Roan was asleep in her loft, and the soft sound of her breathing comforted Bridget. Before this, she never saw herself being a mother, but it was easy with Roan. She loved the little girl with every fiber of her being, and she felt the same way when it came to Jack, even if she hadn’t admitted it yet.
A key turned in the door, and the lock clicked before the door creaked open. The floors whined under Jack’s heavy boots as he crossed the house to check on Roan. Bridget was still awake, curled up underneath the blankets they now shared. She closed her eyes as the bedroom door swung open. She heard the rustling of Jack’s clothes and knew he was changing for bed.
When he finally crawled in and wrapped his arms around her, she could still smell the sweat on his skin and the fresh smell of pines and dirt. It was an intoxicating scent that made her cheeks flush every time. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, barely able to get them all the way around him.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, kissing along her jaw.
“I don’t sleep well without you.”
“That’s why I rushed home.”
Bridget smiled in the darkness and ran her fingers along his cheek. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“I’m glad to be home. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than in your arms.”
She chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose. “That’s awfully sweet of you to say.”
“It’s the truth.”
The crickets outside their window sang for them and the moon offered just enough light to make out the sharp lines of his face. “Jack?”
“Yes, love?”
“Do you think I belong here?”
“What does that even mean?”
“I...Sometimes I wonder if I have a place in this world.”
Jack was quiet for a moment and sighed, rolling over to the small wooden table beside his bed. He opened the small drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and tucked it into her hands.
Her brows furrowed and she squinted in the dark, trying to make out whatever was on the paper. “What is this?”
“It’s a ticket to New York.”
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. “What?”
“I want you here, Bridget. I want you here in my arms. That’s where I will always want you, but I understand that it might not be what you want. I know you came here looking for something else, and I care about you. I don’t want to hold you back from the things you want.”
She stared at the paper for a long time. Six months ago, this would have been a golden ticket. She would have snatched it up and ran out the door without a second thought, but now all she could think of was how much she would miss Roan and Jack. It made her heart ache.
“You stupid man.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “What?”
She wrapped her arms around him again and shook her head. “I don’t want to go anywhere,” she whispered.
“You don’t?”
“No. I don’t know if I belong here, but I will find my place.”
“You have a place, silly woman,” he teased, a gentle smile on his face. “Your place is right here.”
The sweetness of his words made her smile, and she held him close. “I left London to get away from my debt? And I left my parent’s home because I didn’t want to be the wife of a farmer, yet here I am,” she said with a laugh. “And the strangest part is that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Jack stole a brief kiss, chuckling. “Well, if it makes it any better, I’m more of a rancher than a farmer.”
She just smiled and shook her head slowly. “It seems like I got everything I wanted then.”
And she meant it. She never would have expected it to end up like this, but Jack really was everything that she wanted.
Chapter 12
The shutters slammed against the window frames, causing them to shake and rattle. Thunder cracked overhead and lightening lit up the sky, making Roan yelp and close her eyes. She was hiding in Jack and Bridget’s bed, curled up under a thick quilt. Bridget frowned and stood away from the window, watching the storm through the thin slit in the shutters. She rubbed her arms, frowning as she watched the trees whip back and forth. Nothing good was going to come from the storm.
Jack came out of the bedroom, wrapped in thick layers of clothes, his hat abandoned. He had a determined look in his eyes that Bridget didn’t care for.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked with her hands on her hips.
Jack glanced over at her and shrugged on another jacket. “I need to get the horses out of the barn. It could collapse at any time, and if we leave them there, they’re going to be killed.”
“You can’t go out there, Jack,” she said seriously, her brows furrowed. “Look at that wind!”
As if to illustrate her point, there was a loud crack as a tree caved to the wind and fell to the ground. Jack didn’t flinch at the sound, he just looked at her and leaned over, kissing her cheek tenderly.
“This isn’t my first storm. I have to go help my horses.”
“You’re going to get yourself hurt!” she argued, feeling more than a little exasperated.
He kissed her forehead, cupping her cheeks. “I’m going to be alright. I’ll be back before you can even worry about me.”
“I highly doubt that.”
He just smiled and turned towards the door, leaving her with her arms crossed, chewing on her lip as she watched him wander into the storm. She took a step towards the shutters, one hand over her mouth as she watched him stumble through the rain, fighting against the wind. Her heart was slamming in her chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She’d never seen a storm like this in her life.
Finally, she stepped away from the window, unable to watch any longer. Instead, she paced along the length of the living room, her hands in the pocket of her apron, running her thumb across the pocket watch she’d purchased months ago. She still hadn’t given it to Jack. She would have liked to pretend she didn’t know why, but she knew it was because the words “I love you” w
ere engraved on the inside.
She clutched the watch for a long moment and finally tore the apron off and tossed it to the side. She went to their bedroom and wrapped her arms around the tiny lump bundled up in a quilt. “I need you to stay right here, Roan. Can you do that?”
A small whimper came from the quilt. “Where are you going, Mommy?”
“I need to go help Daddy, but we’ll both be right back, okay? It’s important you stay in bed though. You’re safer in here, okay?”
She poked her head out and looked up at Bridget, nodding slowly. “A-Alright.”
“Good girl.” She kissed Roan’s forehead before running out and slipping her thick work boots on.
When she opened the door, the wind yanked it from her hands, and it slammed against the wall, making Bridget jump. She finally managed to close the door, though she was nearly thrown to her knees when she stepped off the porch. She struggled to her feet, planting them firmly in the soft earth as she started towards the barn. Horses were running out towards the fields, shaking their heads, as their manes whipped around their heads.
The last horse made it out, and there was still no sign of Jack. Bridget’s heart dropped into her belly, and she pushed against the biting wind, squinting against the rain. Each drop felt like a needle burying itself into her skin. She pushed forward, head down as she struggled against mother nature herself, determined to make it to the barn.
Finally, she reached the doors, and her fingers dug into the wood as she pulled herself along the front of the barn until she finally managed to pull herself into it. She fell to her knees, struggling to hold up the weight of her soaked dress. When she finally got to her feet the barn was creaking and swaying in the wind, the beams groaning, threating to snap any moment.
Jack was at the back of the barn, cursing and struggling with a bear trap that had closed over his foot. In his rush to get the horses out, he’d forgotten it was there. She ran over to him as fast as her dress would allow her and fell to her knees beside him.
