Wyoming Bride

by Joan Johnston

  “Not just no, but hell, no!” Flint said. “Emaline is the fort commander’s daughter. If she doesn’t show up when and where she should, he’ll have the entire Second Cavalry out looking for her.”

  “It’s already done,” Ransom replied. “Emaline’s aunt is on her way to Denver alone. I dropped Emaline at the house before I came hunting you.”

  Flint’s heartbeat ratcheted up as he realized how complicated the situation had gotten. An unmarried Emaline living under the same roof? Before he’d committed himself to another woman? There was a hell, and he was about to descend into it.

  “When you left Emaline at the house, did you go inside with her?” he asked his brother.

  “I guess I should have, but I didn’t want to be alone with her. I stopped by the bunkhouse to ask where you were working.” He shot Flint a chagrined look and said, “I thought it might be easier in the beginning with both of us there.”

  Flint laughed, but it was a sound without humor. “You’re in for a hell of a surprise, little brother. Because there won’t be only three of us in the house. There will be four.”

  “Four?”

  “After I left your engagement party, I found a woman alone and dying on the prairie. I brought her back to the house to mend. She’s there now.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “No shit.”

  “We’d better get back to the house,” Ransom said, turning his horse for home. “What are you doing this close to Patton’s ranch, anyway?”

  “One of the cowhands riding fence reported that more cattle are missing.”

  “Missing? You mean stolen?”

  “Slim said, ‘Missing.’ He didn’t speculate where they’d gone. They weren’t where they were supposed to be.”

  “Is there fence down somewhere?” Ransom asked.

  “I sent Slim to find out. Pete’s hunting in some of the hollows and gulleys where the cattle go to escape the wind when it starts blowing.”

  “How many head are we talking about?”

  “A hundred.”

  Ransom whistled. “That’s a good chunk of the herd. That many cattle didn’t wander off on their own, Flint. They must have been taken.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “You know as well as I do who probably took them,” Ransom said, his lips flattened in anger.

  “Ashley Patton doesn’t need our beef,” Flint said. “He’s got plenty of his own.”

  “True, but he also knows we’ll need those missing cattle to fulfill the contract with the fort, assuming we get it.”

  Flint eyed his brother. “You have any doubt we’re going to get it?”

  “Assuming we have twelve hundred head of cattle, I see no reason why the colonel would give it to anyone else, everything considered.”

  “You mean, if you marry his daughter. What if you don’t?”

  Ransom looked stricken. “I never thought of that. Surely the colonel would understand—”

  Flint snickered. “Sure. You tell him you don’t want to marry his daughter because she’s determined not to die in childbirth and see how far you get.”

  “Are you saying I have to marry her, no matter what?” Ransom demanded.

  “One of us has to marry her. It doesn’t have to be you.”

  Ransom’s jaw dropped. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “If you don’t want Emaline, I’ll be glad to step up and marry her, no matter what conditions she sets.”

  “Emaline is mine,” Ransom said, his jaw taut.

  “Yes, she is,” Flint agreed. Outwardly he might have looked calm, but his heart was thundering in his chest. He’d never have taken Emaline from his brother, but all bets were off if Ransom decided not to marry her. “I’m not going to jump your claim, little brother. All I’m saying is that if you abandon it, I’m willing and able to step in.”

  “What about your dying woman?” Ransom asked.

  “She’s a recent widow. Her name is Hannah McMurtry.”

  Ransom raised a brow. “Is there some reason you didn’t take her straight to the doctor at the fort?”

  “I figured since I found her, I should have the first chance to court her.”

  “I suppose that means she’s pretty,” Ransom said.

  “She is, but that’s beside the point.”

  “A pretty wife is nothing to sneer at,” Ransom said. “How did Mrs. McMurtry react when you told her you wanted to court her?”

  “I didn’t tell her I wanted to court her. I told her I wanted to marry her.” Flint saw the look of disbelief—almost awe—on his brother’s face.

  “Where did you get the nerve?”

  He felt himself flush. Desperation had provided a sharp prod, but he couldn’t say that to Ransom. He got as close to the truth as he could. “Why beat around the bush? I figured you were going to be bringing home a wife, so I should have one, too.”

  “What did Mrs. McMurtry say?”

  “She’s considering my proposal.” He shot Ransom an admonishing look. “You were supposed to be in Denver helping your wife buy her trousseau while I convinced her to marry me. If Hannah said yes, I figured we’d marry the same day as you and Emaline.”

  “Looks like we both have our work cut out for us,” Ransom said. “You can woo Mrs. McMurtry while I convince Emaline that having children doesn’t have to be a death sentence.”

  Flint tugged his flat-brimmed hat lower to shade his eyes against the setting sun. “The way it stands, neither of us is going to have much privacy to do any courting. And I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to put the two women together. What if they don’t get along?”

  “Better to find that out now, don’t you think?” Ransom said. “I mean, if they’re going to be living in the same house as sisters-in-law.”

  “I figured I’d build another house for me and Hannah once we get married.”

  “You’ll have to wait at least until spring for that,” Ransom pointed out.

  “I don’t suppose you’d consider heading back to Denver after all,” Flint said morosely.

  “I love Emaline, but I’m not sure I can marry her if she doesn’t get over this crazy idea she has that pregnancy is going to kill her.”

  “It’s not so crazy when you think about it,” Flint pointed out.

  “If every woman thought that way, it would mean the end of mankind. I want sons to carry on after me. Don’t you?”

  “There’s no guarantee you’ll get sons.”

  “Daughters would be a blessing, too. Besides, a daughter might mean grandsons.”

  “Building a dynasty, are we?” Flint said sardonically.

  “Why are we working so hard to build a life here if it all ends with us?” Ransom asked.

  “Why, indeed?” Flint mused. “How about to provide a good life for ourselves and earn some peace and contentment in our old age.”

  Ransom scoffed. “What a waste!”

  Flint shook his head. “Not to me. What’s the plan if Emaline doesn’t change her mind and then wants nothing to do with me, either? Especially after she’s spent time under the same roof with us?”

  “Emaline will return to the fort along with her aunt, with no one the wiser. We’ll either marry then, or we won’t.”

  “What makes you think you can change her mind?”

  Ransom shot him a sideways look. “The truth is, she’s hoping to change mine.”

  Flint chuckled. “Good for her.”

  “You can’t possibly agree with her,” Ransom said.

  “No, I don’t, but she’s entitled to her opinion.”

  “Hey,” Ransom said. “Maybe I can talk that Mrs. McMurtry into helping me change Emaline’s mind.”

  “You keep your charm to yourself. Mrs. McMurtry is mine.” Flint was surprised by his feelings of possessiveness toward the woman, especially considering the comments he’d made about his willingness to take Emaline if Ransom threw her back into the pond, like a too-small fish. He simply couldn’t take the chance of end
ing up without a wife in the event Ransom ended up marrying Emaline.

  “I was only thinking Mrs. McMurtry might be able to help me convince Emaline that childbearing isn’t so bad,” Ransom said.

  “Apparently, Hannah was barely a bride before she was a widow,” Flint replied. “I don’t think you’re going to get much support from her about how safe life is out here in the West.”

  “How do you know? Have you asked her how she feels about having your children?”

  “No, I haven’t. We’ve barely had time to exchange names.” He eyed his brother askance, hardly believing that Ransom would actually give up the woman he loved because she wouldn’t bear him children.

  “What if Emaline couldn’t bear children?” Flint asked. “I mean, if later on you discovered there was something wrong inside her, and she wasn’t able to conceive?”

  Ransom pondered the question for a moment, then said, “I suppose I’d have to live without kids.”

  “Or adopt some,” Flint suggested.

  Ransom’s lips flattened. “I want a chance at having children of my own before I do anything like that.”

  “I’d like to have kids,” Flint admitted. “But that’s not the only use I have for a wife.”

  Ransom opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, obviously struggling with whether he should say what was on his mind.

  “Spit it out,” Flint said.

  “Some things are better left between me and Emaline,” Ransom said at last. “But I suggest you have that talk with Mrs. McMurtry before you get yourself committed, in case she feels the same way Emaline does.”

  Flint shook his head. “You’re asking me to borrow trouble where there isn’t any. Besides, I suspect that by the time we get back to the house, the two of them will have thoroughly discussed the matter.”

  “You think so?” Ransom asked.

  “What I think is that the two of us are going to end up bunking together in your room, while the two of them sleep in mine. And I doubt either of us is going to get a word in edgewise with two women in the house.”

  “Are you telling me I should give up before I even try?”

  That’s exactly what Flint wanted to tell his brother. Give up and give me a chance. I’ll take Emaline barefoot and pregnant or with no children at all. I’ll take her any way I can get her.

  What he said was, “That’s up to you.”

  Hannah looked up in surprise when the kitchen door opened. Instead of Flint, returning after a day spent on the range, she found herself facing a young woman, who looked equally amazed to see her standing there. Hannah had always believed her blond hair and blue eyes were attractive, but she almost gasped at the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of the other woman.

  “Oh, my goodness. Who are you?” the young woman asked, as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

  “Hannah McMurtry. Who are you?”

  “I’m Ransom’s fiancée, Emaline Simmons. What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question. I thought you and Flint’s brother were supposed to be in Denver.”

  Emaline glanced over her shoulder toward the closed door, frowned, then turned back to Hannah. “Our plans changed. Does Ransom know you’re here?”

  “Why don’t you take off your wrap and let me get you a cup of coffee to warm you up. Then we can sit down and figure out what’s going on.”

  Hannah was relieved when Emaline smiled, began untying her white-fur-trimmed red wool cape, and said, “That sounds like a good idea.”

  When the two women were settled at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of each of them, Emaline said, “I thought I knew all the women living near the fort. Why haven’t I met you?”

  “Because I didn’t arrive until a few days ago. To be honest, Flint found me languishing on the prairie, all alone, and brought me here to nurse me back to health.”

  The other woman reached out and took Hannah’s hand. “Oh, how awful! What happened?”

  Hannah took a deep breath to answer and found her throat swollen with emotion. When she started to explain, she faced a high stone wall past which she could see nothing. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “When I try to remember, everything is blank.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Emaline said. “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you still here? I mean, why didn’t Flint bring you to the fort? We have a very good doctor there.”

  Hannah debated whether to tell Emaline the truth but could see no reason why she shouldn’t, especially since there was a chance they might end up as close relations. “Flint said he wanted to court me while you and his brother were gone. If we suit, we’ll be married on the same day as you and Ransom.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Emaline said for the third time, putting her hands to her cheeks. “That would mean we’d be sisters-in-law. We’d be spending the rest of our lives as family. We’d be—”

  “Why are you here instead of in Denver?” Hannah interrupted. “Where is Ransom?”

  Emaline blushed. “Ransom and I have a difference of opinion, and we agreed to try and work it out before we marry. He went to find Flint. I don’t think he wanted to be here alone with me.”

  Hannah arched a brow. “But you were going to stay here alone with two single men?”

  Emaline’s blush deepened, and she lowered her gaze. “My aunt Betsy is in Denver buying my trousseau, supposedly chaperoning me. If things don’t work out with Ransom, I’ll go home with her when she returns with no one the wiser.”

  She lifted her gaze and focused her striking, dark brown eyes on Hannah. “At least, that was the plan before I knew you were here. You’ll keep my secret, won’t you?”

  Hannah smiled. “If you’ll keep mine.”

  Emaline laughed, and Hannah found herself smiling back at her. “It sounds as though there’s some question as to whether you’ll be marrying Ransom. Do you mind if I ask what’s causing the problem between the two of you?”

  “Not at all,” Emaline said. “So long as you don’t try to change my mind. It’s absolutely made up.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Hannah said.

  Emaline took a deep breath and said, “I don’t want to have children.”

  Hannah’s jaw dropped. “You don’t? Why not?”

  Emaline met Hannah’s gaze and said, “I don’t want to die in childbirth.”

  “Why are you so sure you’ll die?” Hannah asked.

  “Because my mother died birthing me.”

  “My mother had six healthy children.” Hannah was startled by what she’d blurted. Before this moment, she hadn’t been able to recall any information about her distant past.

  Was her memory returning? Could she remember anything else about her family? Hannah searched her brain, trying to picture those children in her mind’s eye. Instead, she felt a blinding pain in the center of her forehead.

  There were no faces to go with the knowledge that she had five siblings.

  “You’re lucky to have such a big family,” Emaline said. “I’m an only child. Where are they all now?”

  Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her head felt as though it was going to burst open like a ripe melon. She put a hand to her splitting forehead. When the painful bursts of light in her eyes were finally gone, she groaned and said, “I don’t know where my family is. I can’t remember!”

  “Oh, my goodness. You really have amnesia? Then how do you know your name is Hannah McMurtry?”

  Hannah rubbed her brow. “My memory loss seems to be related to whatever happened to cause me to end up alone. I suppose something happened that I don’t want to remember. I do know my husband died of cholera.”

  “You’re a widow? But you look so young!”

  Hannah looked at Emaline’s youthful face and her flawless alabaster skin and said, “So do you. I’m seventeen. How about you?”

  “Eighteen,” Emaline admitted. “Old enough to be a bride. Too young to die.”

 
“You won’t necessarily die in childbirth,” Hannah chided.

  “Can you guarantee I won’t?”

  “No one can guarantee that.”

  “Then I’m not taking the chance.”

  “I don’t see how you’re going to avoid getting pregnant if you become a wife.” Hannah didn’t say aloud that a wife would be bound to have sex with her husband. She’d obviously done the deed herself, since she was pregnant.

  She opened her mouth to tell Emaline she was expecting a child and closed it again. She wasn’t sure she wanted Flint to know about the baby, and she couldn’t trust Emaline not to tell Ransom, who would certainly tell his brother.

  “I can avoid getting pregnant if I never consummate the marriage,” Emaline said softly.

  “Oh.” Hannah could see why the two young people had interrupted their trip to Denver. “So who’s trying to convince whom of what?”

  Emaline laughed. “You’re funny.”

  Hannah had never considered herself to have much of a sense of humor, but maybe that was something else she’d forgotten. “You’re avoiding the question.”

  “I want to convince Ransom that we can have a wonderful marriage and live happily ever after without the intimate part of marriage.”

  “You mean you expect your husband never to make love to you?” Hannah asked bluntly.

  Emaline laughed again. “You call a shovel a spade, don’t you?”

  “Well, do you, or don’t you?”

  Emaline sobered. “I don’t think what I’m asking is so terrible.”

  “How can you know you won’t miss it unless you’ve tried it?” Hannah asked.

  “I presume you have,” Emaline retorted.

  “Yes.”

  “Was it wonderful?”

  Hannah had a sudden flash of memory—of dry lips and mashed teeth, of awkwardness, of excruciating pain—and realized it was another memory of her husband. She had no idea why thoughts of Mr. McMurtry did not produce the same pain—and pit of darkness—she experienced whenever she tried to recall anything about her family. “What was true for me might not be true for you,” she said at last. “Surely it must be different for each person.”

  “But was it wonderful for you?” Emaline insisted.

  Hannah sighed. “Not that I can recall. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be for you and Ransom, especially if you care deeply for each other. I presume you’ve known each other long enough to fall in love?”