by Leah Atwood
The Unbridled Bride
(Mail-Order Matches)
Leah Atwood
Copyright © 2014 by Leah Atwood
Cover Design © Ramona at CoversbyRamona
Cover Photos © Jax at periodimages.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other notes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Prologue
With a steely determination, she continued to stare ahead, refusing to look behind her at all that remained of her life as knew it. The train chugged eastward, taking her farther and farther from the land she loved.
“What is your destination?” An older woman with wrinkles outlining a set of kind eyes turned toward her, attempting to draw her into the conversation.
“Boston,” she answered absently.
“I’ve heard that it’s a lovely city.”
Only the lady’s gentle tone kept Winnie’s irritation at bay. Any other time, she’d welcome the conversation; today, she wanted to be lost in her thoughts and figure out where to go from here. “It’s been many years since I’ve been there. My parents came west when I was just a babe.”
“Are you going for a visit or will you become a permanent resident?”
She shook her head, more vehemently than she’d meant, causing the other woman to blink. “Only a brief visit. I’ll be returning just as soon as possible.”
Although Aunt Louise’s invitation was open-ended, Winnie had no intention of remaining with her for long. She had one goal, one motivation. Boston was only a means to bide time until she could return.
And mark her words, she would return. Maybe not to Cheyenne, but she would find her way home to Wyoming.
Chapter One
Lyle Galveston sat in the rickety chair of the barber, who also doubled as the town dentist. Not often did he indulge in a haircut plus a shave, typically he’d do the shaving part himself, but today was a special occasion. He was getting married; in a few hours, he would be married to Winifred “Winnie” McArthur.
“Getting hitched today, eh?” Gary, the dentist/barber, chatted as he trimmed the hairs that were beginning to curl at Lyle’s neck.
Unable to stop it, a grin spread across Lyle’s face, exposing straight teeth, which had no need for Gary’s other service. “She’ll be arriving on the noon train. Seems the entire town is intent on being there for her arrival.”
With steady hands, Gary trimmed more hair away. “You know how the folks of Pine Prairie are; if it’s one person’s business, it’s everyone’s.”
“That’s the truth if I ever heard it.” A strand of hair fell to Lyle’s nose, tickling it unbearably. He tried wiggling his nose, but the hair didn’t budge. Finally, he had no choice but to wipe it away with his hand. “And this time is no exception. Everyone’s so curious about her; you’d think no one had ever sent away for a bride before.”
“No one in this town has,” Gary reminded him.
“True, but Rance Callahan over in Weatherton did last October.”
“That was Weatherton, not Pine Prairie.”
“In any case, I don’t see the harm in having a welcoming committee. All women like attention, don’t they?” He’d been so confident in his thoughts and plans, he’d never stopped to think of alternatives.
“Some do, some don’t. She could get to feel overwhelmed, but if she has a strong constitution, I will wager she’ll be fine.” Gary grabbed his barber’s duster and brushed the loose hairs from Lyle’s neck. “Besides, she’ll meet the town’s people eventually so why not make her feel welcome.”
The barber’s brief assurance eased Lyle’s concerns. Standing up, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, which he handed over for payment. “I reckon my wife will be cutting my hair from here on out, but I’ll see you around.”
“Come see me if you have any problems with your teeth.”
“Not these pearly whites. I take good care of them.” And just to show him, Lyle flashed an exaggerated smile to showcase their whiteness.
Gary laughed at Lyle’s display of conceit. “Does your wife-to-be know what a humble man she’s promised to marry?”
From a distance, the first sign of a locomotive approaching town rang through the air. Lyle looked out the window then pointedly threw a wink back toward the barber. “She’s about to find out.”
Slapping his shoulder, Gary chuckled again. “Don’t be a stranger. Stop in for a chat next time you’re in town.”
With his perfected swagger, Lyle left the barbershop/dentist office and walked toward the train depot, ignoring the trail of eyes following him. By this point in his life, he’d grown accustomed to the stares of women. At the threshold of becoming a man, he’d quickly learned that women found him attractive. His father had passed down his tall frame, with expansive shoulders that tapered to slim hips. On most occasions, he’d tower over the crowd by at least two inches. From his mom, he’d inherited his dark features. His hair was thick and a rich shade of brown. His eyes were dark also, the shade of those fancy chocolate candies Landon’s Mercantile sometimes carried. Or at least that’s what one gawking admirer had compared them to as she’d gushed on about the merits of his appearance.
She hadn’t known he’d moved to the next aisle over and could hear every word she said. To save her embarrassment, he’d quickly slipped away without drawing attention to himself. Oddly, he had a habit of overhearing conversations centered on him. Through those times, he discovered that, as a general consensus, the town liked him, found him to be an outstanding citizen, always the first to help a neighbor in need. Yet, those who didn’t know him well had decided he was arrogant, which to an extent could be true. He preferred to think of it as confident.
After his parents had died when he was seventeen, he was left alone with a ranch to run. In the eight years since, he’d not only kept it going but continually expanded until the Bar G was the largest ranch around Pine Prairie. He wouldn’t have found the success he had without a requisite amount of perseverance and confidence. At times, he’d been required to strike deals with men who had twice the experience as he did and wealthier than he’d ever know in this lifetime. If he’d shown any signs of insecurity or uncertainty, he’d have been swallowed alive. For survival’s sake, he’d honed the art of confidence, and it had nothing to do with his looks.
A crowd was already gathered at the depot. Only a few of those present had loved ones arriving. Mrs. Wilson’s sister was arriving for an extended stay, as was Caleb Smith’s mother. Jane Little was to be returning to Pine Prairie after spending six months in Ohio caring for her elderly father, who’d passed away several weeks ago. A small portion of the people was here to meet the new women, but the majority of them wanted to meet Winifred McArthur, the mail-order bride.
The older women wanted to see what this woman could possibly offer that their daughters couldn’t. The young women looked on coyly, perhaps with a twinge of jealousy and a bit of awe, to view the woman who’d claimed the town’s most eligible man. And the men waited in anticipation; if Lyle’s bride was a keeper then, each of them might consider sending away for a bride themselves.
Jane Little was the first to step from the train onto the wooden platform. Her husband had greeted her with a brief embrace before others stepped forwar
d in offering their condolences. The remaining passengers whose stopping point was Pine Prairie disembarked, but Lyle still saw no one matching Winnie’s description. Scanning the area, he looked to see if he’d somehow missed her.
A collective gasp rang from the crowd. Hands covered mouths, ineffectively trying to conceal the shock. Prim and proper Marsha Franks fanned herself rapidly. Nancy Radcliffe, the mayor’s wife, snorted in disgust. Men dropped their jaws in disbelief. Like Moses parting the red sea, the crowd separated leaving a clear path from Lyle to…Winnie?
Looking straight ahead, Lyle’s gaze collided with the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was the color of wheat, highlighted by the late afternoon sun. Perfectly shaped eyebrows rested above expressive eyes so light blue they may have been gray. Lowering his gaze, his mouth curled to a smile in an undisguised enjoyment. When his gaze traveled back up and met his betrothed’s, he had the distinct feeling his life was about to become a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter Two
Her unsteady legs were the sole reason Winnie was the last passenger on the train. After three years of separation, she was on the cusp of realizing her dream, being reunited with the land she loved. Much to her chagrin, she’d forgotten her legs’ reaction to the rocky sway of the train. The anticipation was mounting, but she was frustrated by the unwanted delay her limbs were causing her. When her legs were sure enough to walk again, all other departing passengers had disembarked.
Exiting the train, she felt all eyes dart toward her. Without turning her head, she shifted her eyes to survey the crowd. I’m surprised there’s no string quartet welcoming the new arrivals, she thought with an amused grin. All of Pine Prairie must be at the train depot today.
The years spent in Boston should have accustomed her to crowds, but instead only taught her to tolerate them. She would always prefer wide, open spaces, but throngs of people no longer caused her throat to tighten and stomach to quench.
That’s the difference three years can make.
She’d never forget how lost she felt those first weeks in Boston, where she couldn’t walk from the street to store without feeling the breath of another pedestrian. The crowded churches, libraries, and markets. An array of lights at night that blocked out the calming stars. Every crowd, every loud noise, every odious scent intensified her longing for home.
Two months had passed and she felt herself falling deeper into grief. Until one day she had a revelation; if she continued wallowing, she’d never get back to Wyoming and would end up a lonely and bitter soul. Self-pity and buckling under had never been a part of her being. With every bit of grit and determination Tom had passed to her, she fought her way back to happiness. Every crowd became a potential opportunity to meet that person who’d be her ticket back west. Every night she couldn’t sleep from clattering on the street was a reminder never to take silence for granted. Her beginnings in Boston weren’t easy but taught her valuable lessons about herself and life, lessons she was applying daily.
Reflexes caused her head to turn at the sound of a strained cough. Whispers passed back and forth between the older women and some men openly gaped. Let them. She’d come too far to be bothered by the gossip of a few. Her attire wasn’t conventional; Aunt Louise had needed her smelling salts when she saw her niece leaving for the train dressed in trousers, but Winnie stood firm in her resolve. She had every intention of going straight to work once the wedding necessities were completed.
Perhaps, if her primary objective in coming west was to attract a man, she may have shown more concern, but why would she move west just to marry when several worthy men had approached her in the city with propositions. She had no interest then and she didn’t plan on having an interest now. No, marriage was simply her ticket back to Wyoming and a key to, once again, being back on a ranch. She only hoped marriage to Lyle Galveston was worth it.
A man, an attractive sort, walked down the path that the impromptu welcoming committee had formed. She knew immediately this was Lyle. His confident gait, the self-assured smile- the man matched the personality she’d inferred from his letters. Only she hadn’t expected to feel a tug at her heart upon seeing him for the first time; nor had she anticipated an attraction to the man, let alone an instant one. Such feelings would only complicate matters.
She would have to find a way to tamp down those instincts. Once, some years ago, she’d thought herself in love, but time had proven she knew nothing about the notion. Hard work and raising cattle were all the fulfillment she needed. For what more could she ask? Looking up, she met with a pair of coffee-colored eyes that danced with amusement.
“Welcome to Pine Prairie, Miss McArthur.” Lyle took her hand, raising it to his lips before brushing a brief kiss against her palm.
“Winnie,” she corrected him, too short of breath to say more.
A stodgy, elderly lady standing nearby, harrumphed. Winnie’s eyes remained busy, locked in a gaze with Lyle, but her ears were free to hear the snide comments.
Someone close to them whispered loudly to a friend, “What kind of a name is Winnie? Is she a horse or something?”
“What would you expect from a woman wearing that? The scandal of it all!” The response came from a different woman whose gravelly voice indicated an advanced age.
Breaking eye contact, Winnie turned and flashed the ladies her best smile. Mama always told her she could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Emboldened by a subtle wink cast her way by Lyle, she decided to respond. “Winnie is short for Winifred, a name I hold dear since it was passed down from my grandmother. However, I happen to find horses to be beautiful creatures, so thank you for the compliment.”
Turning back to Lyle, she saw his lips twitching and his chest heaving, definitive signs he was holding back laughter. At least he’d have a sense of humor, something Tom, for all his good attributes, lacked.
“Ladies and gentleman.” The crowd immediately silenced at Lyle’s booming voice. “If you wish to attend the wedding, please meet at the church in an hour.”
Until that moment, she’d forgotten they had agreed to invite the town to their wedding. She’d have preferred a quiet affair but agreed only because it seemed important to Lyle. With any luck, not too many people would show up. Judging by the curious stares and peeks that didn’t seem like much of a probability.
She sighed inwardly. A few more hours; if she could get through this, she’d soon be at the Bar G, digging her heels in and getting busy discovering her new home.
Lyle stood beside her with his arm extended. With the lightest touch, she accepted his hand and allowed him to lead them through the crowd. They walked until they came to a clearing between two buildings where no one else was lingering. Away from the multitude, Winnie quickly dropped Lyle’s hand, uncomfortable with the contact.
“Do you have any doubts about this marriage?” Lyle asked.
Grateful for a lack of meaningless conversation, she shook her head. “Had I any doubts, I wouldn’t be here right now.” It wasn’t a complete fabrication. She had no doubts about marriage’s necessity, as it was the only option she’d had in three years to bring her back to Wyoming.
“I like you, Winnie. You’re a breath of fresh air. The town has planned a large potluck dinner for us after the ceremony. It will delay us getting back to the ranch, but we can stay at the hotel for the night. My men can cover for us until our return.”
A ball of panic rose in Winnie’s throat. No hotels. She wasn’t ready for what that could mean.
“Or we can still head back tonight; we’ll just be getting in after dark,” he added.
She swallowed hard, relieved for a temporary out. “After dark is fine with me. I’m excited to see my new home.”
“Home tonight it will be. Ready to get married?”
With his charming smile and twinkling eyes, Winnie couldn’t help but like her very-soon-to-be-husband, even putting aside the attraction she didn’t know what to do with. If nothing else, she sent thanks to
heaven for placing her with an affable man whose company she could enjoy.
“Let’s go.” Despite one minor…err major hurdle, she was eager to start this new life.
Chapter Three
From his perch atop the barn, Lyle could see out across the expanse of his land. Only a small amount of the acreage had been handed down to him, but the land as far his eyes could see he’d added through hard work. He knew better than to take it for granted; too many times he’d seen a cattleman lose everything to a vicious, unforgiving winter. He’d seen the effects of rustlers and thieves, sickness and infection. Ranching held no guarantees. Acknowledging his fortuity, he remained aware of the dangers and pitfalls.
Bending his arm back at the elbow, he swung his hammer down, sending the nail further into the roof. Last night’s storm had brought a wave of high winds crashing down on Pine Prairie and the Bar G, but with the exception of the barn roof, they’d escaped severe physical damage. There was more potential damage in the loss of cattle, several dozen head of which had strayed during the storm. Lyle had his men on that now, riding the land to round up the errant bovines.
Not that he minded mending the buildings, but he’d rather have been with his hands, out searching for the cattle. And he would have been if, not for his unbridled wife, but staying near the house was the only way to keep her home. Without a doubt, she’d have insisted on riding along with him. As it was, she’d tried saddling up one of the mares to go out with the others. If Hazel, the housekeeper hadn’t come out coughing, pale and weak looking, Lyle thought it very possible that Winnie would have argued about going anyway.
“Dinner is ready,” Winnie called up to him from the foot of the ladder.
“I’ll be right down.” Finishing the last of the repair, he surveyed the work a final time satisfied it was completed. Climbing down the rungs, he noticed Winnie had returned to the house. Three weeks into their marriage, he still couldn’t figure out his wife.
