Adventure For A Bride: A clean historical mail order bride romance (Montana Passion Book 3)

by Amelia Rose

  “Maybe the likes of you would be comfortable in a barn, but not I! I assure you, Mr. Flynn will come to his senses and invite me in immediately, especially once you’re out of his sight. I’ve come to marry him and put his family to rights again, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” She spit those last words at Millie and resumed her petulant rocking, turning her face away once again to show Millie she’d effectively been dismissed.

  Wish I’d thought to spit on her plate, Millie thought angrily as she crossed the yard to her own quarters. Surely this is an imposter, and not an actual relative of the saintly Anna Mae Flynn!

  Millie retired to her cabin but was far from settling down. New doubts swirled in her mind. Would Wyatt have a change of heart in the morning and let this woman stay? Was Corrine right, and would Wyatt let her in the house, and therefore, into his bed, once Millie was out of sight?

  No. She’d only known Wyatt for a few weeks, and knew him even less during their time of corresponding. Those letters didn’t count, since they were so barely full of truth as to almost be full of lies. But would the kind of man who would mislead a woman about his wife and children be as easily misled himself?

  Millie caught herself alternating between wishing the cabin had a window so she could spy on Miss Ellison, and being grateful that its future as a smokehouse meant there was no window. She desperately wanted to watch Miss Ellison and see if she’d managed to snake her way into the house like she’d threatened, but on the other hand, she knew better than to think these kinds of thoughts. They only led to trouble. She finally managed to clear her head and get ready for bed, forcing herself through no small amount of effort to ignore this latest fiasco and fall asleep. Hopefully by morning, this would all be an unfortunate event that they could put behind them.

  Instead, the sun rose to shine on Corrine’s empty chair. Her trunks were still outside but had obviously been opened. Millie stepped out of her cabin to go to the children just as Corrine opened the front door to Wyatt’s cabin, still in her nightgown, her hair still in a long braid hanging down over one shoulder. She didn’t even wear shoes on her feet.

  Corrine took one look at Millie crossing the yard toward the house and smiled proudly, having obviously won out. She’d come to Montana with a mission, and she’d accomplished it. Millie’s heart only sank further when the door opened a second time and Wyatt stepped out, his shirt half-tucked into his work pants, his own shoes nowhere to be seen. He put a hand on Corrine’s shoulder and turned her around to face him, but caught sight of Millie’s horror-stricken face and immediately took his hand away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She couldn’t face them right now, not with the evidence of where she stood so plain in front of her. She walked quickly around the side of the house and headed to the barn instead, stepping around patches of mud that had oozed up from under the grass during a light rain overnight. She reached the barn and had just saddled one of the horses when Wyatt came running, calling her name.

  “Don’t you dare, Mr. Flynn! You back away from me right now or so help me, I’ll scream until your ears pop! You have no right to even look at me, let alone speak to me!” Millie stormed.

  “Miss Carter, please, would you just hear me out?” he asked, but the look of triumph on his face was more than she could tolerate.

  “I don’t want to hear another word from you, especially now that I know nothing you’ve ever said to me has been the honest truth! Save your breath, Mr. Flynn—you’ll need it for your new wife.”

  The fight went out of her when overwhelming heartbreak took its place, leaving her to turn wordlessly and climb up on the horse. She nudged it with her heels until she was outside, Wyatt watching her in confusion. She heard him yelling her name as she kicked the horse into a dead run, intent on putting as much distance between her and Flynn’s farm as she could.

  *****

  Pryor had never been comfortable around tears, so the sight of a distressed woman riding at breakneck speed until she came to a sudden stop in his yard sent him practically running for Moira. He apprised her of the presence of the newcomer, filled her in a little on her apparent state, then bolted for the barn, where he set to work sharpening his tools at the whetstone.

  “Miss Carter? Whatever is the matter?” Moira cried, racing out in the direction Pryor had told her. She helped Millie slide down from the horse, tied it to the hitching post in front of the house, then carefully led her inside as the young woman gave way to sobbing.

  “It’s awful! I don’t even know what to say!” Millie said through her tears. She tried to explain everything, but her crying prevented her from being clear. Moira still nodded sympathetically, even though she only understood every third word or so.

  She brushed Millie’s hair back into place where the wind during her wild ride had torn it loose from her bun, then got up to fix her some soothing tea. Pryor came to the back porch once or twice to peer through windows, but decided it still wasn’t safe when he saw them sitting together at the table.

  “Miss Carter—” she began, but Millie interrupted her in desperation.

  “Oh please, can we stop with this formality? I left my home and everyone I ever knew to come here, and I expected to belong here by now. Instead, I’m a jilted woman with nary a friend of my own! If someone doesn’t call me Millie and become my dearest friend soon, I don’t know what I shall do!” She sniffled into the linen handkerchief Moira had brought her, then quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry, that was horrid of me. I’m just so… so… upended!”

  “Of course you are, dear. Millie, that is. Now start over, and tell me what’s wrong. You said Mr. Flynn’s sister has come?”

  “No, his sister-in-law! She says she’s come to marry him and raise the children, and last night, we both thought that was preposterous, but this morning, I woke up to find her coming out of his cabin in just her gown, and with him following behind her only barely dressed himself! I don’t know what to think, but it seems clear… he’s chosen her after all! He admitted he’d written to her, but how do I know he didn’t write to her after I showed up and he didn’t approve of me?”

  “Did he tell you as such?” Moira asked, horrified at the thought that even Mr. Flynn could be so awful. It wasn’t the behavior of the man she thought him to be, but then again, neither was writing off for a wife in the first place and then casting her aside as he’d practically done to Millie.

  “Not in those words, no. But it all makes sense now. He didn’t want me here, but let me stay and cook and clean and care for his family, all until his new wife could arrive. It’s obvious, and I feel so stupid for it. He got to get his crops planted and get his fence up while I worked myself into a lather with the little ones. But even worse, he let me care about those children. They’ve stolen my heart, and now I’ll be leaving them behind!” She cried all over again, but Moira could only sit frozen in place, stunned by what she was hearing.

  “Millie, my dear, tell me what I can do,” she finally pleaded. Millie shook her head.

  “There’s nothing anyone can do, I just had to get away from him. I’ve been patient while he decided to come around to the idea of my being here, but I had no idea he was only waiting for his real wife!”

  “Oh dear, poor, poor Millie! I can tell you that this will naw stand! My own husband won’t hear of this, and I can assure that you Sheriff O’Conner will have Mr. Flynn’s hide for it!”

  Millie shook her head again. “Now, I’ve been disgraced enough at being so ill-used and ill-treated. I just want to leave. I don’t want the spectacle of having all this dragged out into the open for everyone in New Hope to enjoy! If he’s chosen that woman, all I can do is pray for the children’s happiness because Mr. Flynn’s and Miss Ellison’s happiness means nothing to me!”

  She finally dried her tears and finished her tea, then looked imploringly at Moira. “Please, can I trouble you to help me?”

  “Of course, Millie! You can ask me for anything, anything at all!” Moira
said vehemently, grabbing Millie’s hand and pressing it between her own.

  “It’s actually your husband. If he could just fetch my things from the smokehouse and take me to town, I’ll be out of everyone’s way and you won’t have to trouble yourself with me ever again. I just… I can’t face him, and if I see those children’s little faces again, my heart will break in two, I know it.” She sniffled again, and Moira felt so bad for her wretched condition that she reached her arms around Millie’s neck and held her close.

  “Of course, dear, we’ll see to it straightaway. But don’t you think it best to wait here for a day or two to get your wits about you? You shouldn’t make any rash decisions, not with your sorrow such as it is.”

  “I appreciate you, you can’t know how much I do. But I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. Retrieving my things so I can get out of Montana is far more than I’m comfortable asking for as it is.”

  Moira nodded reluctantly, then led Millie from the table to her chair by the fireplace. She helped her sit, then brought her a quilt and another cup of tea.

  “Poor, poor Millie. I’m so sorry for what’s befallen you. I’ll go now and speak to Pryor so we can make this right by you.”

  Moira left her sitting and staring morosely into the nearly black coals, although she wasn’t sure Millie’s eyes were even focusing on the fire. She stepped out back and sought out Pryor where she knew he’d be hiding, finding him still bent over his whetstone. He sat up when he saw her and put his tools aside, eager to sort through the problem.

  As Moira explained, his expression turned from perplexed to animalistic rage. He threw his tools out of the way and headed straight to his horse, saddling and bridling the animal in spite of the day’s work that still awaited them.

  “If you’re going after her belongings, won’t you be needing the wagon?” Moira asked hesitantly, not wanting to intrude on his anger. He answered her without even looking up, not trusting himself to speak pleasantly in his state but knowing none of the fault was with his wife.

  “I won’t need the wagon, because Flynn will be carrying her things to her. And I do mean carrying them… in his hands… and he’ll be walking here with them on foot.” Pryor flung himself up in the saddle and rode off in the direction of a friend he only thought he knew.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Millie stayed holed up in the MacAteers’ home for the next two days. She moved through their house silently, being a help wherever she could in her gratitude for taking her in. Pryor had returned with her belongings, and Wyatt had carried them there himself as promised. When he asked for her to come outside and speak to him, she only shook her head and returned to the children’s room where they’d put her up. Moira and Pryor apologized, but refused to go against her wishes at that point.

  Of course, he’d returned the following day, and the day after that as well. Corrine was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t stop Wyatt from coming to call and waiting outside all day long. Both days, he sat on the porch, hoping for her to come out long enough for him to apologize, but to no avail.

  Finally, the morning of the third day dawned and there was no sign of him. Millie had spent two days moving in the shadows so he wouldn’t see her, and it was discomforting to not have to watch out the windows to see where he lurked. She didn’t know where he might be, and that was more bothersome than seeing him plain.

  “Is he not here?” she asked Moira in a whisper as she helped prepare breakfast. Moira shook her head, avoiding Millie’s gaze. “Good. Perhaps he’s finally given up and will let me move on in peace.”

  Moira pressed her lips together until they were barely a thin white line. She wanted so badly to tell Millie to run after him, to listen to what he had to say, but she knew it wasn’t her place. She hadn’t been so badly treated by her own husband, and therefore knew not what the woman had endured in coming to Montana to find that nothing was as it should have been.

  “Do you think his wife will be good to the children?” Millie asked, looking up. “I mean, I really do only ask for their sakes. They’re my only concern now.”

  “I’m afeared I don’t know Miss Ellison, so I could naw say either way. I can promise you this, though, we’ll keep an eye on them as best we can from here. We won’t let any ill tidings befall them, if that gives you any peace of mind.”

  “It does, Moira. Thank you. Really, it will pain me less to know they have good, decent people like you and Mr. MacAteer to look in on them from time to time. I only hope Miss Ellison loves children, but surely she’ll be a good mother to them seeing as how they were her own sister’s babies.”

  She finished her chores in silence, betrayed by the occasional tear that slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped them away whenever she had to in order to keep Moira from knowing just how broken her spirit really was. When it came time to help Matthew and little Bridget, she did her best to put on a smile for their sakes but even that proved too hard a task to bear. Their happy expressions and bright eyes were too much like looking into the faces of the children who had almost been her own.

  Around mid-day, Pryor came in from his work and stepped gingerly into the house, keenly feeling his failure as a friend. He’d sought to force Wyatt to act like a man for once and do the right thing, but his friend only continued to offer excuses. His claim that nothing had happened between him and Corrine had fallen on Pryor’s deaf ears. No man should have ever allowed even the hint of impropriety to take place in his home, yet that’s exactly what Wyatt had done.

  “Thank you for letting me stay, Mr. MacAteer. I know it’s been difficult to have another person underfoot, especially one you’re not related to,” Millie said gratefully as she served the dinner. She smiled weakly as she finally took her seat and began to stir her food around on her plate.

  “Nonsense, we’re grateful that you’ve accepted our hospitality. And I feel like it’s the only way I can make amends,” he answered without looking up.

  “Amends? What have you done to have to account for? You and your wife have been nothing but helpful and kind since I arrived,” she exclaimed, her emotions swirling in her mind at the thought that they should apologize to her.

  “I pushed Mr. Flynn into writing off for you, and I should have left well enough alone. I was only thinking of more practical things, like farm and family, and not of how he was feeling. He did try to tell me he wasn’t ready to think about a wife yet, but I made him see reason. If I’d only not interfered, you would never have stepped foot on that coach in the first place.”

  “I see why you must feel that way, Mr. MacAteer, so please let me set your mind at ease. I don’t wish to speak ill of Mr. Flynn, but he made all of his own choices. Unless you held his hand to a flame to compel him to write to me, he did this on his own. You may have inspired him, but he’s the one who saw it through. He’s also the one who promised me only a matter of days ago that he wanted to be married, and then no sooner had he spoken those words, his real love arrived and forced me out. He made his own choices, Mr. MacAteer, and you’ve nothing to apologize for.”

  Millie set her fork down beside her plate and stared at her dinner for a long time. She finally eased back from the table and carried her plate with her.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m suddenly not feeling up to dinner or company. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to retire to the room and lie down.”

  They nodded sympathetically and watched her turn to go, but she froze when she caught sight of the window. Out in front of the cabin a procession of wagons was arriving, their heavy wooden wheels rolling to a slow stop in front of the house. One wagon in the front was particularly ornate, or at least appeared so at first glance. When she leaned closer, she saw that it was actually festooned with ribbons and wildflowers, and that Wyatt and Corrine sat on the wagon seat, the children in the wagon box behind them wearing their finest clothes.

  “Oh, God,” Millie whispered before pressing a hand to her mouth.

  “What is it, dear?” Moira
asked, racing to her side. She looked out the window where Millie was staring and couldn’t believe her eyes. “What is he doing here? It can naw be…”

  “What’s got you two so petrified?” Pryor asked, coming around the table to look for himself. He, too, stood in shock at the sight in front of him. “Did he…”

  “I’m afeared ‘tis so,” Moira whispered. “Surely he knew Miss Carter is still here with us. What would possess such a man to come here after marrying Miss Ellison? As if she’d want to celebrate such a morbid occasion?”

  “I’ll kill him myself,” Pryor hissed, stomping to the door and throwing it wide open. He was met with cheers from the guests and a wave from Wyatt, but he was in no mood for festivities. He crossed over to the wagon and hauled Wyatt down in one swift jerk at the lapels of his jacket. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Wyatt could only smile as he saw Millie framed in the open doorway, her hand supporting her against the frame to keep from falling.

  “It’s my wedding day!” he answered feebly. “I thought you of all people would be happy for me. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “What I wanted? Have you taken to the drink, Flynn? I wanted you to marry Miss Carter, and to be done with that weeks ago. Instead, you’ve gone behind her back and invited some other woman to take her place, and left her without so much as a word of explanation! If there weren’t so many witnesses, I’d shoot you myself for what you’ve done! They can bury you on your wedding day, for all I care, as I’m done with you. Now get off my land and take this group of false friends with you.”