by Vanessa Vale
“I’m sorry, Mr. Thomkins—” the teller told the man in front of us, “—but I can’t let you withdraw any money from your brother Melvin’s account.”
My brother, Knox, and I stood behind the man in the bank, awaiting our turn to withdraw money for our supply trip down to Jasper. I sighed as quietly as I could. The quick trip inside was not going as expected. With the horse and wagon hitched at the rail, we’d hoped to be on our way by now.
The snow had melted enough on the pass for Slate Springs to be accessible once again, just a few weeks ago. Most likely in Wichita—where we’d lived until last year—it would be hot by now, but this far in the mountains was still chilly at night. I didn’t mind it at all. I was big and was always warm.
“Why not?” he asked, slamming his hand down on the wood counter.
“I’m sorry to hear of your brother’s passing, and especially in such a fashion, but the account doesn’t belong to you.” The teller, Rob Simms, who we knew from many a night of cards over the long winter, was remarkably calm considering the amount of patience Thomkins required. He was an asshole unlike any I had met before, and I’d met many.
Being in a small town, and a small town cut off from the world for half the year, only made the man even worse since there was no escape from him. I had to imagine the number of people who wanted to shoot him. The sheriff would no doubt award the man—or my sister, Piper—a medal instead of a stint behind bars for the task.
“He’s dead. Of course it belongs to me and Curtis.”
I glanced at Knox, who rolled his eyes.
There were three Thomkins brothers. Melvin Thomkins had died in a rock slide just the week before. A severe thunderstorm had blown through and the waterlogged ground had given way. Rocks and mud had wiped out the man’s house as he slept. I had to hope he hadn’t awoken and had died instantly. Remnants of the home were visible, but not much. There were no remnants of Melvin. Curtis, the youngest of the three, was the town’s schoolteacher. And the one before us complaining was the town’s pest. He didn’t work, for he had some money on his own, and that had him interested in the town council’s activities, and everyone else’s. No one called him anything but his last name and I had to admit, I didn’t even know what his first name was.
The teller shook his head. “No, sir. As you know, as the entire town knows, he had himself a mail order bride. Your brother Melvin, I mean.”
“Yes, I know which brother had sent for a bride,” Thomkins countered. “What about her?”
“Well, she’s his bride, legally and such, which means the money’s hers.”
“What?” I saw Thomkins’ fingers turn white where they gripped the edge of the counter.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you.” The teller offered a crisp nod and looked over Thomkins’ shoulder to me and Knox. Clearly, he was not interested in arguing further with the man, especially about something that was a legal matter and not banking related.
“Need to withdraw some funds,” I said. Someone else came into the bank and I nodded his way.
Thomkins didn’t move from his spot before the counter, but turned and narrowed his beady eyes at me and Knox. He was a foot shorter than we were and from our vantage, we could see more of his bald head than most. The hair he did have was fair, which didn’t help him any with regards to covering that challenge.
“Sorry for your loss, Thomkins,” Knox offered. “Your brother was a nice man.”
He had been, too. How Melvin had gotten all the personality and kind demeanor for all three brothers, I had no idea. It mattered not, except Curtis Thomkins taught the children of Slate Springs. Surely a day in his classroom wasn’t overly pleasant. I remembered being in the schoolroom. While I hadn’t liked being cooped up, looking at the lovely Miss Carmichael all day had certainly made it easier. As for her, with five Dare boys to teach, she’d probably gone home every night and drank heavily.
“Would you excuse us, Mr. Thomkins? It’s a little difficult to make a transaction with other customers with you standing there.”
Thomkins looked to me and Knox and saw the other man waiting as well. His cheeks were florid and his eyes narrowed, most likely upset at being overheard. He muttered beneath his breath and stomped out, slamming the door behind him. It was no wonder the glass on it didn’t break.
“Sorry about that,” Rob told us as we stepped forward. While his voice was chagrined, I was sure he was just glad to see the back of the man.
“Not your fault,” Knox told him.
I shared the amount I wished to withdraw and as he was collecting the bills, Rob made small talk. “Headed down to Jasper?”
I nodded. “Collecting more supplies. Just spent our first winter here and I feel like a squirrel collecting nuts before winter comes again.”
Rob laughed and counted out the money. I took it off the counter and put it away. “Need us to pick up anything for you?”
We didn’t mind being neighborly.
“Not this time, thanks. But you could see about Melvin Thomkins’ widow.”
Knox leaned against the counter. “Oh?”
“You heard him.” Rob lifted his chin toward the door, indicating Thomkins’ angry retreat. “That woman stands between him and a large sum of money.”
“Melvin’s bride is a wealthy widow and doesn’t even know it,” I said.
Rob nodded. “Exactly.” The teller was married and had two small children, so he was concerned for the woman just because he was a nice person, not because he was after her newfound fortune. “While Thomkins is married—” he paused, obviously thinking of the man’s poor wife, Agnes, “—his brother Curtis isn’t.”
He gave us both a pointed look.
I understood, and when Knox nodded, I knew he did, too.
This woman was alone and while quite rich, she was at the mercy of Thomkins’ machinations. She needed our help.
“She was to arrive in Jasper today but I don’t know if anyone will meet her with Melvin gone. Clearly, Thomkins doesn’t know or he’d be running down the mountain.”
“Today?” Knox asked, glancing at me. “How convenient. Perhaps I’ll collect something besides supplies.”
“You? Maybe I’ll find her worth keeping,” I countered, then nodded at Rob and the man behind us before we took our leave. We were headed to Jasper for more than just flour and nails. Knox was interested in her. So was I. Let the best man win.
***
Knox
The door to the shop burst open. “She’s here.”
I turned around at Jed’s words. I was fishing in my pocket for the coins needed to pay the lady for the dainty ribbons I’d just bought for baby Lil. They were a pale pink and blue. My niece was only a few months old and had a few wisps of red hair, so she wouldn’t be using them anytime soon. Even longer still would be when Jed and I taught her how to shoot—we’d have to do it in secret so her two fathers, Spur and Lane, didn’t know—but in the meantime, we’d spoil her rotten.
“Here?”
My brother had his head and shoulder through the doorway and angled his thumb over his shoulder. “Mr. Denby just found me and said Thomkins’ bride is sitting in front of the mercantile.”
I placed the coins on the counter, grabbed up the ribbons and tipped my hat to the woman.
“How the hell does he know that?” I asked, stalking out the door. He closed it behind me and we walked side by side. We were of similar height and both had long legs. We’d be in front of the mercantile within a minute.
“The woman’s new to town, has a bag at her feet. Who else can it be?” he asked.
That was true. Jasper was a small town and the stage only came up once a week.
“But she’s not due for an hour,” I countered, stating what Jed already knew. We’d learned of the stage’s arrival time when we came to town, then went fill our supply orders while we waited. After what Rob at the bank had said, we couldn’t leave this woman clueless and alone in Jasper, or worse, at the mercy of Thomkins. The
bastard.
Jed glanced at me as we stepped into the street to skirt around two ladies walking by. “Well, it came early. She’s here.”
What kind of woman became a mail order bride? I knew Celia, Luke and Walker Tate’s wife, had been a mail order bride. She’d been a widow and escaping her dead husband’s lunatic brother. That was a good reason for leaving her old town and becoming a bride to two protective husbands. Then there was our sister. She’d become a mail order bride by taking a dead woman’s place. She’d run away from home, from me, Jed and our three other brothers because we’d been overprotective. I frowned and rolled my eyes as I thought about it. What kind of brothers would we be if we weren’t protective? Well, she thought annoying ones, so she’d left home and ended up in Slate Springs with Lane and Spur. She was happy with her men—a good thing too—but she was our sister and not the best example for mail order brides.
So what of the new Mrs. Thomkins? What was her reason for leaving home and traveling to Slate Springs, Colorado for a husband? Even though the town’s law said otherwise, she only married Melvin; he’d had no intention of sharing her with a second husband.
What did she look like? Tall, short, a waif or a woman with some meat on her bones to grab onto? Fair or dark?
Up until now, I’d only thought of whether a groom would like her. Whether I would. I never considered she might not like her groom. I had to wonder what she would think of me. I was passably good looking, at least my sister, Piper, and a few other women of Slate Springs had said so. I had red hair though. Very red, like carrots. And a beard, I had a beard. I was also brawny. Big hands, big feet. Big everything.
What if we approached and she ran away screaming? Jed was just as big as me. I’d never been one to lack in self-confidence, but now… now I was like an untried lad trying to kiss a girl for the first time. Well, I wasn’t kissing this woman since she was Melvin’s widow, so—
There she was. I saw her and stopped in my tracks. I put a hand to Jed’s chest and he stopped as well, followed my gaze. Yes, I was going to kiss this woman and hopefully I wouldn’t be a bumbling fool when I did.
She was about fifty feet away and hadn’t seen our approach. She didn’t see anyone approach because she had her nose in a book. She was a tiny thing. Well, tiny compared to Jed and me. Her back was as stiff and straight as if she had an iron spike for a spine. On her head was a little straw hat that did nothing to shield her face from the intense mountain sun. Nor did it do anything to hide the wild hair that was attempting to escape from the bun at her nape. It seemed she either didn’t use enough pins on her dark hair or she’d stuck her head out the window of the stage all the way from Denver. Based on how prim and proper the rest of her was, her simple coat, serviceable boots, I doubted that to be the case.
Her profile was lovely. Upturned nose, high cheekbones. I wasn’t good with fancy descriptions, but I just knew that from the side she was quite pretty. I hadn’t even noticed she wore glasses until she absently pushed them back up her nose.
“She’s a bluestocking,” Jed murmured. “I bet she doesn’t even know which way to hold a gun.”
I wasn’t sure if the idea appealed or horrified my brother since our sister liked to shoot people with surprising regularity. Fortunately, Lane and Spur were able to temper her frustrations. I just wasn’t going to think about how they did so.
This woman, it seemed she intrigued us both. I saw the tilt of Jed’s mouth and knew he was not displeased. Seeing her with a book was a sign she found escape through reading. A flighty woman would not last in Slate Springs, especially with the winter that lasted for half the year. The only way to escape the town when it was cut off for most of that time by a pass that was completely buried in snow was through a book.
“I want her,” I murmured, which made Jed look my way.
“Really? Maybe I want her.”
Shit. Was I going to have to fight my brother for her? We hadn’t done that since we were teenagers and neither of us got the girl, only black eyes.
I made my feet move again. We quickly closed the distance to her. She didn’t look up at the sounds of our boots on the rugged boardwalk, but when our bodies blocked out the sun. Only then did she lift her chin and drop her book to her lap.
“Oh. Hello,” she murmured, startled. She pushed her glasses up.
Her eyes were the greenest I’d ever seen. Like cottonwoods dappled in sunlight. That was my first thought when she glanced at us. She stood abruptly, the book falling to the ground. We stepped back to give her room and I knelt down to pick it up. With one knee bent, we were just about eye level.
I glanced down at the book. The Mines of Colorado by Ovando J. Hollister. Intriguing. She was not only a bluestocking, but one interested in learning about her new surroundings. She couldn’t know that we owned a mine, a mine so new it couldn’t be listed on the pages. I held the book out and she took it from me, her fingers brushing mine. While hers were gloved, I could still feel her warmth.
My cock stirred at the slight brush, the way her eyes widened.
Startled, she tugged away, her book pressed against her belly. I wasn’t sure if she was unsettled because I knew the topic of her reading or because we’d brushed fingers. It mattered not. I wanted her more, either way. This close, I could study her better. While she was very petite, she was not small. Her body was lush and soft with curves a man wanted to hold. There wasn’t a sharp edge to her, which was good, because I was all rough and hard.
Color flagged her round cheeks and her lips clamped together. Somehow, her shoulders went back impossibly further and she stood even straighter. I found it amusing and arousing, for while she was a prickly thing, she also had very lovely, very curvaceous breasts she thrust toward my face. I doubted she knew of her enticing actions and that only made me want to muss her up. And make her cry my name.
“Miss Jamison?” I asked. Legally, she was Mrs. Thomkins, but I didn’t feel comfortable with saying that since she’d never meet the man.
She gave a slight nod of her head and a wayward curl fell down and brushed her cheek. Watching her tuck it absently behind her ear, I had to assume it was second nature for her to do so. Her eyes widened slightly behind her simple glasses and a small smile formed on her full lips and I realized she must assume I was Melvin.
I would have paid handsomely to know what she was thinking. Did she find the idea of me as her husband appealing? The thought of her being mine sat right with me. Hell, yes, it did. I usually didn’t follow my sister’s advice, but I was thankful I’d taken her tip and trimmed my beard so I didn’t look like the wild mountain man I’d turned into in the past year. I wanted this woman to like what she saw, because I did. I liked the look of her very much.
“I am Knox Dare.” I eyed her as she frowned, realizing I wasn’t her husband. Then she glanced at Jed.
“As you can probably tell, we’re brothers.” He tipped his hat. “I’m Jed.”
A dimple appeared in her right cheek and I was entranced.
“I am sorry we were not here when the stage arrived. We are not used to one arriving early.”
“It is of no matter.” Her voice was soft, yet clear. “I am content on my own while I wait for Mr. Thomkins.”
Independence was a good thing, but I would not have her alone where some random miner might come and harass her. It was my job—our job—now to keep her safe, especially since Melvin would most definitely not be coming. I might not want Jed to have her, but he could damn well help keep her safe.
Remembering I held the ribbons in my hand, I thrust them toward her. “These are for you.”
Her eyes widened at my offering. So did Jed’s.
It was a delay, for I just wasn’t ready to tell her about Melvin yet.
“They are lovely. Blue is my favorite color. Thank you.” The smile she gave me changed her face entirely—and my desire to remain a bachelor. It was cruel and heartless to even think, but I was glad Melvin was dead, because now she could—no, would—
be mine.
“Are you going to kneel before her like a swain all day?” Jed’s words made me flush and I was thankful for my beard to hide it. His shove to my shoulder had me standing.
“Miss Jamison, I’m afraid we have some bad news,” Jed murmured.
She frowned then and I wanted to punch Jed for stripping her of that smile.
“Your, um, well, Mr. Melvin Thomkins passed away last week.”
Her frown dropped then and her face was completely expressionless.
“Oh, dear. Was he… was he an old man?”
The question answered much, for she had no idea whether her mail ordered husband was twenty or eighty.
“Thirty-five, perhaps.”
I didn’t move, barely breathed, wondering what she would do next. She just stared at my chest, unblinking. I wasn’t so grand in the head to think she found my body appealing. In fact, I doubt she saw anything at all, so lost as she was in her thoughts.
“It seems you knew little of Mr. Thomkins? No letters?”
She blinked, then looked up at Jed. “No. Nothing at all. I feel so poorly about this.”
I lifted my hand to pat her arm, then thought better of it. “Yes, it is hard to lose someone, especially a spouse.”
Her green eyes shifted to mine and she pushed her glasses back up. “That’s just it, Mr. Dare. I feel poorly because I don’t feel anything about Mr. Thomkins. While I am sorry to hear he has died, I don’t grieve him. I am also slightly relieved because I was married to a complete stranger. But I am now alone, with barely any money and no place to go. I am only thinking of myself when someone has died.”
“Please call me Jed and my brother Knox, otherwise you’ll be making us confused.”
When I nodded, he continued. “Your feelings are understandable and you do not have to explain yourself to us,” Jed offered. “We have a sister who made us more aware of the challenges women face. As for you, while you no longer have Mr. Thomkins as your groom and protector, please allow us to offer you our escort to Slate Springs.”
