Want-Ad Wife
Mail-order bride Josephine Dooley’s trip West was supposed to end in marriage to her intended groom—not with the discovery that he hadn’t actually placed the bridal ad! Now her only choice is to convince Pony Express rider Thomas Young to wed her anyway to save her from her scheming uncle.
A bride shouldn’t be a surprise package, and when Thomas finds out about his meddling brother’s ruse, he plans to send his would-be wife packing. However, when he realizes Josephine desperately needs his help and a marriage of convenience is the only way he can protect her, he vows to become the husband she needs. But he quickly learns that it will be hard to keep his new bride at arm’s length...because Josephine is his perfect match.
“Look, I’m not sure what you are expecting from this marriage.”
Thomas took his hat off his head and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “But it isn’t going to be a real marriage.”
“We said vows, Thomas. Vows that I have been raised to keep.” Now that they were alone, was this his way of saying he’d changed his mind? How could he do such a thing?
His gaze met and held hers. “I agree, but this isn’t a real marriage, Josephine. The only reason I agreed to it was because I wanted you to be safe from your uncle and his evil plans. I have no intention of falling in love.”
All Josephine could think to say was “All right.” Inside she told herself she was happy that he harbored no desire to fall in love and live happily ever after.
Tension eased from her body. If he felt that way, then he couldn’t expect her to love him, either. How could anyone love another when they weren’t even sure they could trust them?
Still, a twinge of worry etched its way through her mind. “Does this mean you want to get out of the marriage?” She didn’t want to not be married to him; she needed the protection of his name.
“No, we’re married and you have the protection of the Young name, but that is all.”
Rhonda Gibson lives in New Mexico with her husband, James. She has two children and three beautiful grandchildren. Reading is something she has enjoyed her whole life, and writing stemmed from that love. When she isn’t writing or reading, she enjoys gardening, beading and playing with her dog, Sheba. You can visit her at rhondagibson.net. Rhonda hopes her writing will entertain, encourage and bring others closer to God.
Books by Rhonda Gibson
Love Inspired Historical
Saddles and Spurs
Pony Express Courtship
Pony Express Hero
Pony Express Christmas Bride
The Marshal’s Promise
Groom by Arrangement
Taming the Texas Rancher
His Chosen Bride
A Pony Express Christmas
The Texan’s Twin Blessings
A Convenient Christmas Bride
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RHONDA GIBSON
Pony Express Christmas Bride
To everything there is a season.
A time for every purpose under heaven.
—Ecclesiastes 3:1
A special thank-you to my family.
I love you all very much.
James Gibson, your support means the world to me.
Father God, thank You for the stories You place on my heart and for being with me when I write.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Cowgirl Under the Mistletoe by Louise M. Gouge
Chapter One
Dove Creek, Wyoming
October 1860
Josephine Dooly lay low over her horse’s back. She whispered soothing words in his ear, even though she felt sure he couldn’t hear them over the yells of the bandits in hot pursuit of her. Her heart raced, adrenaline ran full throttle through her veins and pounding heart.
She doubted the bandits were after her money; they wanted the bags of mail in her possession, but if they stopped her, they’d get both and it wasn’t in her to let them have either. She meant to keep the hard-earned money she had on her person—and her mother’s locket. Josephine had a wedding trousseau to buy and a household to set up. Bandits out for the thrill of the steal were not going to alter her plans one little bit.
“Just a little farther, boy. We’re almost there.” The Pony Express station just ahead was Josephine’s destination. Once she rounded the bend, she knew the men would stop chasing her. Ole Mac, the previous stock tender, had said so when he’d given her instructions about this part of her run.
Thankfully, this was Josephine’s last ride for the Pony Express. She still couldn’t believe that cutting her hair and shortening her name to Jo had gotten her employment with the Pony Express. But she thanked the Lord that it had. There’d been some close calls and a few lonely days, but she’d made it by the grace of God.
As promised, once she rounded the bend, the bandits turned back the way they’d come. She let out several loud whoops of her own and patted the horse’s neck as she sped into the Pony Express station, where another rider waited to take her place.
She handed off the mochila and slid from the pony all in one motion. The other rider raced away, leaving Jo and the station manager standing in the yard in front of a tall barn.
The Pony Express station stock tender turned to look at her. “Boy, you look plum tuckered out.” With a good-humored laugh, he slapped Josephine on the back and only her quick reflexes kept her from flying through the air and falling on her face.
He motioned toward a building a few feet away. “Welcome to the Young family home station. I’m Andrew Young. My brother Philip is in the bunkhouse. Head on over. He’ll make sure you get something to eat and show you to a warm bunk, where you can bed down.”
Josephine nodded. This was her first time at this station, but she knew that in another ten miles she’d be in Dove Creek—and that was her final destination. She’d hired on as a Pony Express rider simply to get here.
She lowered her voice to sound like that of a young boy’s. “Thanks, believe I will.” Her legs felt as if she’d marched through mud and it had dried on her boots, weighing them down. She walked to the small bunkhouse, happy for a little time to rest after her last run.
A smile tilted her lips. She’d made it to the Young Home Station. It had taken a couple of weeks, but she was here. And her uncle was none the wis
er. She’d managed to escape his plans to marry her off to a distasteful gambler as payment of a large debt he owed. What kind of uncle did that to his niece? Apparently hers, as that was exactly what had happened. But she’d outsmarted him.
Answering Thomas Young’s ad for a mail-order bride had been her saving grace. And the scariest thing she’d ever done in her young life. Well, that and signing on to be a Pony Express rider.
Her forehead puckered in thought. What would Thomas’s brothers Andrew and Philip think when she revealed that she wasn’t a boy but their brother’s mail-order bride?
Josephine hoped Thomas would be as happy to see her as she would be to see him. She’d not had the luxury of time to wait and see if he’d send her money to travel to the West, but had of necessity found her own way to Wyoming.
Josephine knew she’d had no choice. After her mother’s death, her father had become depressed and one day just disappeared. Leaving her behind to fend for herself. At first her uncle had paid little attention to her, but soon he’d realized that she could become profitable to him. To escape her uncle and his plans, she’d signed on with the Pony Express and never looked back.
Josephine pulled her shoulders back and raised her chin, readying herself to meet Philip Young. She touched her hand lightly against her chest, comforted by the warmth of her mother’s locket. The jewelry was the only thing left of her mother, besides Josephine’s memories, and she cherished it above all her possessions. Fortunately, her uncle hadn’t known she possessed it or it would have been long gone.
She pushed the sad thoughts aside and entered the bunkhouse. She yawned and weariness filled her. Josephine knew that once she told Philip who she really was, she’d need a couple of hours’ sleep before heading to the town of Dove Creek. She hadn’t waited for Thomas’s letter and now only hoped that she’d be given the directions to the relay station that he ran. If she understood correctly, it was a mere five miles on the other side of Dove Creek, so shouldn’t be too hard to find.
Nerves warred with hunger as she thought about this new life she planned to carve out for herself. Josephine prayed once more that she’d made the right decisions in answering a mail-order-bride ad, joining the Pony Express to escape her uncle and then marrying a man she didn’t know. Some might say she’d jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire; Josephine didn’t know, but she was about to find out.
* * *
Thomas Young leaned against the stone fireplace, watching snow drift silently to the ground in light, fluffy flakes. Living at a Pony Express relay station was the perfect life. He and his brother Philip had everything they needed. They attended to the Pony Express station that rested on the far side of the Young Home Station, which was always their first and last stop on their rides. Their ma liked this because it meant she got to see her adopted sons at least once a week. The home stations offered a bed and meal, whereas their small station offered only a fresh horse and more miles to ride between home stations.
Thomas heard the bugle blow seconds before the young man came into sight. The Pony Express rider came in fast and hard. Not all the riders used the bugle, but this one did. Thomas pushed himself away from the fireplace wall. He hurried to the barn and pulled out the already saddled horse that the rider would exchange. He’d take care of the exhausted horse as soon as the Express rider was on his way.
The young boy rode low over his horse’s neck. The powdery snow lifted from the horse’s hooves like steam from an overheated kettle.
Thomas braced himself for the horse exchange. The boy practically leaped from one horse to the other in one motion. Thomas recognized him as Juan. “Adios!” he called after the retreating back. The pony beside him heaved. Juan had ridden him hard.
The rider waved and shouted back. “Buenos Dias, Senor Young!”
He smiled and then gently tugged on the reins of the spent horse. “Come along, boy. We’ll have fresh oats in your belly in a few moments.” Thomas took the horse to the small barn that housed six Pony Express horses. His own gelding was behind the barn in the lean-to it shared with Philip’s horse.
The smell of hay and oats filled his nostrils. The warmth of the barn wrapped around his chilled body. Philip had been gone for almost four days. He’d planned to ride his part of the trail and then stop in at their adoptive mother’s home station near Dove Creek.
As he worked, Thomas talked to the horses. “Philip should be home later today, boys. I’ve missed his constant chatter. How about you?”
One of the animals kicked its stall door in answer. Thomas laughed. “Well, at least one of you missed him, too.” He took off the Pony Express–issued saddle and began rubbing down the horse that had just arrived.
“I see you are still talking to the animals.”
Thomas turned to smile at the little woman who stood in the doorway. Hazel Gorman was short, round and full of wrinkles. Her hazel eyes twinkled as she looked at him. He wasn’t sure of her age and had never been brave enough to ask. “Hello, Hazel. I didn’t hear you arrive.” He put the horse into a stall, where fresh oats awaited it.
She continued into the barn carrying a big basket. “With the way you and these horses were yammering on, I’m not surprised.” There was a teasing glint in her voice that assured him she was joking.
“What’s in the basket?” Thomas knew it contained some kind of eatable. Hazel was their nearest neighbor and enjoyed bringing them some form of baked good at least once a week. She also brought them canned goods and warm soups or stews.
“It’s getting colder, so I thought you two boys might like a couple of loaves of bread, and I’ve also jarred up my favorite beef stew. It should last you a few days.” Her wrinkled face crinkled up into a smile.
The old woman had more or less adopted Thomas and Philip and used the excuse of feeding them as a reason to come over and check on them. Thomas knew she grew lonely out on her place and, to be honest, he enjoyed her frequent visits.
“Well, thank you. Come on into the house. I just put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
She fell into step with him. “When is Phil coming home?”
Thomas grinned. “Anytime now. He should have already arrived.”
As if she heard the loneliness in his voice, Hazel grunted. “You two boys need wives to help you pass the time when the other is working.”
He held the door open for her. Thomas didn’t point out that he was working, too. And he wasn’t about to talk about getting wives. Instead he said, “That stew smells good.”
Hazel playfully slapped his arm as she passed. “You can’t smell the stew. You’re just trying to change the subject.” She walked to the kitchen area and set the bread and jars on the table.
He closed the door and shut out the cold air and lightly falling snow. “Look, Hazel, I know you mean well, but Philip and I are doing just fine without wives.”
She ignored him and moved to the cabinet that contained four tin mugs, the remainder of the clean dishes in the house. Hazel filled two of them with hot coffee and motioned for him to join her at the table.
Thomas sat down with a sigh. If he knew Hazel, and he believed he did, she was going to start a running conversation on the benefits of having a wife.
Hazel studied his features over the rim of her coffee cup.
He turned his face so that she could see only the right side. The last thing Thomas wanted was for her to focus on the scar that ran from his temple to his chin on the right side. It wasn’t pretty and no woman should have to look at it straight on.
“You are a handsome young man, Tom. Look at me.” She lowered her cup.
Thomas tried a teasing tone. “You are mighty pretty, too, Miss Hazel. Are you hinting you’d like to marry me?” He continued to keep his face tilted from her sight.
“You rascal. We both know I’m too old for you. Besides, I want a man who isn’t
ashamed of his looks.” Her tone had lost its teasing tone.
Thomas didn’t have a chance to answer. The door burst open and Philip came into the cabin. Cold air and a petite young woman followed him inside.
Without so much as a how-do-you-do, Philip blurted, “Hey, Thomas! Look what I brought home!”
This couldn’t be good. Philip looked a little too cheerful. The pixie-looking girl beside him smiled shyly and clutched a worn piece of luggage in her small hands. She was a pretty little thing with big brown eyes, a mass of short red hair and the cutest turned-up nose he’d ever seen. Thomas didn’t know how to answer his brother. He had no idea what was going on. “Um...”
Hazel got to her feet. “Did you up and get married, Phil?” She hurried forward and hugged him.
Shock filled Philip’s face as he held his hands up like a bank robber in front of the sheriff. “No.”
Hazel stood back and frowned. “Then maybe you should explain who this young lady is.” She released him and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
Philip reached behind him and pulled the pixie forward. “This is Josephine Dooly. Thomas’s mail-order bride.” His laughing blue eyes met Thomas’s.
“What?” Thomas’s and Hazel’s shocked voices echoed each other.
The young woman seemed to have found her tongue. “I know I should have waited till you sent for me, but, well, under the circumstances, I came as fast as I could.”
“What circumstances?”
Her cheeks reddened. “I told you in the letter.” Small hands clutched the carpetbag as if she were afraid they’d take it from her.
“What letter?” Thomas stood and raked his hand down the side of his scarred face.
Philip looked as pleased as punch. His blue eyes danced with merriment as the scene unfolded before him.
Hazel’s gaze darted between the three of them. She finally focused her eyes upon Josephine. “I’m Hazel Gorman. Let’s sit down at the table and see if we can sort this all out.” Her wrinkled hand waved toward Thomas and the chairs that remained empty behind him.
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