Percy's Unexpected Bride (Dalton Brides, Book 7)

by Kit Morgan

  He scanned his clipboard carefully. “Sorry, can’t help ya. Ain’t nothin’ on this train for the Dalton Ranch.”

  “What? Are you sure there isn’t something on that list for us?”

  Mr. Baker checked again and shook his head. “‘Fraid not, son. Ya sure it was comin’ today?”

  Percy sighed. “That’s what I was told – on this train.”

  Mr. Baker shook his head again. “What was it? Maybe I can check and see if it’s comin’ tomorrow.”

  Percy chuckled wearily. “Unfortunately, the Daltons think things are more interesting if I show up here not know ing what I’m getting.”

  Mr. Baker laughed. “Well, that ain’t gonna help ya much, now is it?”

  “No, sir, I’m afraid not.” He looked around again. The woman was still there, but now she was looking right at him. “Well, I guess there’s no help for it. I’ll just have to go back empty-handed. Maybe you’re right and they got the date wrong.”

  “Sorry ya had to come all this way. I know ‘bout the Dalton Ranch, it’s a few hours’ trip.”

  “Yes, sir, it is. Thank you for your time.”

  “Yer welcome, Mr. Blue. Hope yer able to get what you been waitin’ for.”

  “So do I,” said Percy as he turned, and almost jumped out of his skin – the woman on the platform now stood right in front of him! “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said with a tip of his hat, trying to settle his nerves.

  “Did I hear you right?” she asked. Her accent was New England, overlaid with a gentle Irish brogue. “Is your name Mr. Blue?”

  Percy had been about to walk around her, but the question stopped him. He had an odd feeling in his gut about this. “Yes, my name is Mr. Blue. Whom, might I ask, is inquiring?”

  Whom indeed? In addition to having a lovely voice, she was very pretty – golden brown hair with a hint of red, a strong jawline, an hourglass figure. But her green eyes held a look of abject fright. Why would that be? More to the point, what in blazes did she want with him?

  The odd feeling in his gut tripled. Oh no, he thought to himself. It couldn’t be …

  “My name is Adele Brown.”

  “And is there something I can help you with, Miss Brown?”

  She swallowed hard, looked away, then swung her head around and looked him right in the eye. “Yes, Mr. Blue. There is something you can do for me.”

  Percy stood and stared, waiting for her to tell him what, but after a period of silence he realized he was going to have to ask. “Which is?”

  “You can marry me.”

  Three

  “Marry you?!” Percy said. “What do you mean, marry you? Who are you?”

  She looked at anything but him for a moment before she faced him again. “My name is Adele Brown and I’m your mail-order bride?”

  “Mail … order … what in Heaven’s name …” Percy snapped his mouth shut, took his hat off and slapped his leg with it. “Walton. This is Walton’s doing, I know it!”

  “Actually, it’s a mail-order brides agency’s doing.”

  Percy shook his head violently. “Ohhhh, no! No, Walton Dalton’s hand is in this, no doubt about it! Just like him to –”

  “Walton Dalton?” she repeated, her face twisted in confusion. “Who is Walton Dalton?”

  “The local mortician’s next project, in this case,” he said flatly.

  She gawked at him – had she come all the way from Massachusetts only to meet a raving lunatic? “What are you talking about?”

  “I could ask the same of you.”

  “I’ve made myself perfectly clear!”

  Percy sighed and closed his mouth again before he said something he shouldn’t. She was obviously upset, and probably exhausted if she was what she said she was. Speaking of which … “Where did you come from?”

  “From Beckham, Massachusetts.”

  “Beckham?!” Percy repeated, his tone serious. He studied her, noted the dark smudges under her eyes – and a slight yellow tinge on her right cheek. He knew what that was. He’d been pummeled by his brothers often enough to recognize the last lingering sign of a black eye. “Good God, woman,” he whispered. “What happened to you?”

  She started to weep.

  Wrong choice of words. Percy fought against a groan. Like most men, he had no defense against a crying woman. “No, don’t get upset – I was just asking …”

  “I’m … sorry … hic … but it was such a hard journey to get here …”

  Guilt stabbed his heart. He glanced helplessly around, but thankfully the men unloading the train were concentrating on their work. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. It’s just that … I didn’t know a thing about you. Nobody told me you were coming.”

  “But you answered the advertisement.” She wiped her tears away and straightened her shoulders. “Your name is on the marriage contract.”

  “Marriage … contract?” he squeaked. “Good grief, are you serious?”

  She picked up the satchel at her feet – it was the first time he’d noticed it – and began to dig through the contents. When she stood up, she shoved a folded sheaf of paper at him, her eyes no longer full of tears but of anger.

  He took it from her gingerly, unfolded it and began to read. His eyes went wide as platters at the words. It was a marriage contract, all right, and his name was on it. “I am going to kill him…”

  “Who? Walton Dalton?” she snapped, her voice dripping sarcasm.

  “Perhaps a few others as well,” he replied. “My brothers, for one – they had to have been in on this – not to mention my brothers-in-law …”

  “I beg your pardon?” she huffed. “Are you telling me that someone else sent for a mail-order bride for you, and didn’t inform you of it?”

  He folded the papers and handed them back to her. “That about sums it up, yes.”

  She threw her hands in the air and groaned. “Perfect! This is all I need!”

  “I’m truly sorry, ma’am, but nobody told me and that’s the honest truth. You see, marrying is the last thing on my mind.” That was as much as he would tell her. Never mind that Nate had been bringing it up for the last two weeks – and now he knew why …

  She rubbed a temple with her fingers and closed her eyes. “Let me get this straight: your family members answered the advertisement for a mail-order bride, not you.”

  “I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

  “So, I’ve come all this way for nothing?!” she snapped.

  Percy swallowed. For a tiny thing, her fury was fierce. “Ah … so it appears.”

  She lowered her hand and opened her eyes, her body shaking. “Mr. Blue, do you have any idea of what I’ve been through?” she croaked.

  He studied her more closely. “No, ma’am, I don’t. But I gather it wasn’t pleasant.”

  “No, Mr. Blue, it was not.” She turned and took a few steps away from him. “What am I going to do?” she muttered to herself.

  “Ma’am?”

  She turned to face him. “I don’t know what to …”

  The helplessness in her eyes made something in Percy’s chest … crack … it was the only way to describe it. He took a step toward her as he remembered what she’d said earlier. She’d come as such a shock, he’d forgotten it until now. “You said you were from Beckham?”

  “Yes,” she said weakly.

  “I’m from there,” he said numbly.

  She looked up at him. “You are?” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I don’t understand any of this …”

  “I think I do,” Percy said as he reached out to her. “I think I’m beginning to put this all together now.” He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him. “We need to go someplace where we can talk. Are you hungry? You look like you haven’t eaten for a while, if you don’t mind my saying.”

  She looked up at him and nodded, her eyes once again filling with tears. His heart went out to her and he knew, knew why she was there. Adele Brown hadn’t just come from Beckham.
r />   She’d escaped it.

  *

  Percy took her by the elbow, and led her from the station to the Harvey House across the street. He knew he could get her a good meal there. And maybe after she’d gotten some food in her, she’d be better able to explain to him what had happened to her without falling apart. He knew it couldn’t be pretty, not if she’d come from Beckham, not with the last traces of violence on her face.

  They went inside, got a table and sat. After the waitress came and took their orders, he leaned his elbows on the table and studied her. Again, she looked at everything in the room but him. Her face was flushed, her green eyes fearful. The feeling of something deep inside his chest cracking returned. What was that?

  The waitress returned to their table with two cups of coffee. Miss Brown nodded her thanks and immediately took hers in her hands and held it as if it would make everything that had recently happened to her disappear. “Don’t gulp it down – it’s hot,” he warned.

  She looked at him, her eyes already brightening. She took a slow sip of her coffee and closed her eyes in bliss. “I needed this.”

  “I’m sure you did. You’ve had a long journey.”

  She opened her eyes. “You have no idea.”

  He sat quietly, not wanting to disturb her. Best to let her have a moment to herself, even if he was sitting right there. He glanced around the restaurant, noted how two men at another table stared at her and, without thinking, glared at them in warning. They immediately turned away and started talking to each other.

  What was this sudden protectiveness? Regardless, he studied the room a second time to make sure no one else was ogling her. If she’d been through what he suspected, their looks might frighten her.

  “Aren’t you going to drink your coffee?” she asked softly.

  He looked at her and felt his mouth fall half-open in amazement – instead of that fearful look in her eyes, now there was concern and … wonder? “Yes, um … just … letting it cool a bit.” He smiled, picked up his cup and took a few sips. “Good. Everything is good here.”

  “I’ve never been to a Harvey House before.”

  “I thought the trains from back East stopped at a few along the way.”

  “They do.”

  He leaned toward her. “What happened to your money? Did you run out? Lose it?” He gasped. “You weren’t robbed, were you?”

  She shook her head. “Ran out, robbed … I’m not sure. Maybe when I was asleep on the train …”

  “It happens. Probably someone sitting next to you took it while you were sleeping. When did it happen?”

  She swallowed hard. “A few days ago.”

  Now his eyes widened. “Good grief! When was the last time you ate anything?”

  She looked at him, her eyes blank.

  He nodded. “Never mind, I can guess.” He looked around for their waitress, and in a case of perfect timing, she was approaching them, tray in hand. She set the food out for them, asked if they needed anything else, and – after Percy made sure Miss Brown was taken care of – left.

  He said a quick blessing over the food, then looked at her. She stared at him for a moment, then glanced at her fork. She was acting oddly and he began to wonder if she wasn’t in some sort of shock. After all, how would he feel if he were in her shoes? To escape a horrible situation, especially if it had anything to do with the infamous deacons Belafonte, Smith and Jackson, then travel all the way out to Texas only to find the man you were coming to marry had no idea you existed?

  He watched her begin to eat, took in the look of pure rapture on her face when she took the first bite of her sandwich, and felt his chest swell with … hmmm, what was it? Satisfaction? Okay, so he was taking care of her, but why would it make him feel so … so good?

  “Aren’t you hungry?” she asked between mouthfuls.

  Percy suddenly realized he hadn’t touched his food yet – he’d been too mesmerized watching her eat. “Oh! Yes, of course.” He picked up his sandwich and took a bite, never taking his eyes off of her. Good Lord, but she was pretty!

  She was watching him too, and he began feeling self-conscious. “You’re a cowboy?” she asked.

  “Of a sort.”

  She took another sip of her coffee and looked him over. “You dress like one.”

  Percy hadn’t thought to wear anything to the train station other than his work clothes. After all, he was just picking up cargo … or so he’d thought. “I guess so. I work on my brothers-in-law’s ranch out on the other side of Wiggieville. I’ve never thought of myself as a cowboy, though. I guess I still think of myself as … well, a merchant’s son.”

  “Merchant’s son?”

  “Yes, do you remember the Blue Mercantile in Beckham?”

  “Oh yes … it went out of business a few years ago, didn’t it?”

  Percy’s expression turned hard. “Quite right.”

  “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

  Percy tried to soften his look. “No, not at all, it’s just that … the circumstances surrounding my family’s business … well, I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” She looked away self-consciously.

  He noticed how her cheeks flushed. “Don’t be sorry; it is what it is. But I’d rather not go into the details.”

  She looked back at him. “I understand.” She returned her attention to her meal and kept quiet as she concentrated on her food.

  Percy did the same, for lack of a better idea and was content to watch her eat. Anything was better than talking about what happened to his family’s mercantile and the havoc wreaked upon them by Deacons Belafonte, Jackson and Smith. Apparently they were still at work and this girl had probably been part of their latest scheme. So, the two of them had common enemies.

  However, that might be all they had in common. For the moment, he’d get her back to the ranch and turn her over to Hank and Benedict. They’d know what to do. He wondered why Hank hadn’t come to fetch her himself – well, other than to pull a prank on his little brother. Maybe pulling Percy into it and having the girl arrive as his mail-order bride was keeping her safe. The contract she’d shown him earlier was probably a phony, thank the Lord – maybe he wouldn’t have to murder Walton after all …

  “My heavens, but that was good – just what I needed. Thank you.”

  Percy blinked, and realized she’d finished eating. He also realized that he didn’t want the meal to end. He rather liked dining with her, studying her, protecting her … “Er… would you like anything else?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t …”

  “Not even some pie?”

  “Well if you’re going to have some …”

  He certainly would, if it meant getting to spend more time with her. Not that he was interested in marrying her, mind … but her presence did have a soothing effect on him, and he wanted it to last a little longer. He signaled for their waitress. “Could we get two pieces of pecan pie and more coffee, please?”

  The woman smiled, nodded and left to fetch their new order. “I’ve never had pecan pie before,” Miss Brown commented.

  “Well, you’re in for a treat – the pecan pie here is the best I’ve ever had.”

  “So you’ve frequented this establishment before?”

  “On occasion, when my brother-in-law Nate and I come to town for supplies. We usually grab a bite here, or at the café near the mercantile.”

  “Do you come to town often?”

  “Not to Weatherford – only when we need certain things, or to pick up something being shipped from back East. Usually we get our supplies in Wiggieville which is about an hour from the ranch.”

  “How far are we from your ranch now?”

  “A little over three hours.”

  “Oh,” she said and folded her hands in her lap. She stared at the table a moment. “It all sounds like a far cry from Beckham.”

  “That’s for sure. Texas is much different, but now that I’ve grown used to it, it’s just as
beautiful.”

  She looked at him and he noticed tears forming in her eyes. “It’s strange to me … but I guess I’ll get used to it.”

  Percy reached a hand across the table and held it out to her. She stared at it a moment before she put one of hers in it, and he gave it a squeeze. “I know you had a hard journey, and probably an even harder time beforehand. Am I right?” It was time to get down to business.

  She nodded and looked away. He watched a single tear find a path down her cheek. “You know why I had to come?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  He released her hand and sat back in his chair. “I could make a guess. But it’s my brothers who can help you. Whatever it is you’ve been through, they’ll try to make it right.”

  She glanced around. “They can make abducting an innocent woman right?” she mumbled.

  Percy’s fists clenched. “Abducted?” he hissed.

  “Please,” she pleaded, her eyes darting around the restaurant. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”

  “Oh, right, of course.” He nodded. “You can tell me on the drive back to the ranch. If … if you want to.”

  She wiped her face just as the waitress brought their pie and refilled their coffee. They finished the rest of the meal in silence, glancing at each other on occasion but not saying a word.

  “We’d best be heading back,” he said with a tender smile when they’d finished. “Would you like to go to the mercantile first and maybe get a few things?”

  She looked at him numbly. “Things?”

  “It’s a long drive. Myself, I like to have a bag of lemon drops for the trip. I thought maybe you’d like something too.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  He smiled again as he got up from the table, at the same time cringing inside. What had she gone through, that she was surprised someone would think of her? “Shall we, then?”

  She nodded, stood and, after he paid for their meals, preceded him out the door. He watched her, feeling in his gut that after today, his life would never be the same.

  Four