Mail Order Prairie Bride: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Book 1)

by Julianne MacLean

  “And I wanted someone plain,” he went on. “Instead, I got you—and you’re the farthest thing from plain.”

  “You also wanted someone who wouldn’t lie to you,” she said.

  He paused, then nodded. “That’s over and done with. We have a life here now, and we need each other. I don’t know what I would have done the past few days without you. You may not have been what I expected in some ways, but in other ways, you’ve been the best wife I could ever ask for.”

  Feeling her eyes flood with tears of joy—and fear at the same time—Sarah touched his cheek.

  There was still so much he did not know. It filled her with terror.

  Briggs kissed her hand—a kiss filled with affection and respect. His hands moved sensually along the inside of her forearm, and she could barely breathe.

  “You’ve been trying to be a good wife to me,” he said, his voice husky and low. “But I haven’t been a good husband to you. I want to change that.”

  He slowly leaned in, and his lips brushed gracefully over hers. It seemed as if her dreams, one by one, were all coming true. All that she’d ever wanted….

  Briggs deepened the kiss and eased her down onto the bed. Butterflies danced within her as his tongue explored her mouth. Gently, he rolled on top of her and their bodies melded together. With soft, warm lips, he seared a path down her neck, over her shoulders and across to the top button on her bodice.

  “May I take this off you?” he asked, his eyes burning with desire.

  Sarah tried to control the pulsing knot of sexual yearning in her belly, but gave up the effort, nodding her permission.

  Briggs unbuttoned her bodice and pressed it open to reveal her corset and chemise. He dropped tender kisses along the line of her collar bone. His breath was warm and moist against her chest, and her blood blazed with fire.

  “There are so many ways I want to touch you,” he whispered. “Things are going to be different from now on, I promise you that.”

  Reclaiming her lips, he smothered all talk. His hand slid down to her thigh and rested there a moment, then he got to his feet.

  Sarah leaned up on both elbows while Briggs stripped off his shirt and draped it over the chair, revealing his muscled, sun-bronzed chest and powerful arms. Then he unfastened his trousers and stood before her like a demi-god—the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The sight of him in the golden, flickering lamplight stole her breath and all but paralyzed her.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and slid her bodice off her shoulders, then proceeded to remove her corset, leaving her in only her chemise and skirts.

  “Why don’t you roll onto your front?” he suggested. “Let me rub your back.”

  When warm fingers touched the small of her back, she quivered. “Relax,” Briggs whispered, his hands rubbing the muscles on either side of her spine. “You worked hard the last few days.” With smooth strokes, he massaged her aching back and shoulders. She hadn’t realized until now how sore and tired her body was, but none of that seemed to matter when she knew he was sitting on her bed, completely nude, leaving her starving to touch him. Or to feel the substantial weight of that incredible, muscled body upon hers.

  She closed her eyes and sighed.

  Time slowed to a surreal pace as his strong, generous hands worked over her flesh. Then he pulled the hairpins from her hair and moved the long locks aside and kissed the back of her neck. She tingled all over.

  With an exploding desire she could barely contain, Sarah rolled over, onto her back, to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth and she wanted to devour him whole. She whimpered a protest when he pulled away to tug her petticoat down over her hips and toss it to the floor. Now she was completely naked as well.

  At last, he lowered his weight fully upon her, and her body writhed impatiently on the bed.

  “Please,” she whispered, not even sure what she was pleading for as the word escaped her lips.

  His mouth was hot and wet as he kissed her breasts and her belly—like a starving man—and used his hands to stroke the damp center between her legs and arouse her senses to a feverish peak. His big, muscled thigh came between hers and pushed them apart.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah, I can’t wait,” he whispered desperately in her ear, then he entered her in a swift, deep, soul-reaching thrust.

  “Oh, God,” he sighed, as they moved together in the dim light, thrusting and heaving until sensations surged to a blinding peak and Sarah’s body tensed with unexpected spasms. Briggs squeezed her and kissed her, then he laid his palms on the bed, on either side of her shoulders, and rose up to look down at her. His golden hair fell forward. Sarah reached out to push it back, then met his heated gaze, so full of desire.

  Soon, he bowed his head and she lost sight of his eyes behind his hair as he shuddered and groaned with ecstasy. A few seconds later, he collapsed on top of her, hot and slick with sweat.

  “I feel so close to you,” he whispered passionately in her ear. “On our wedding night, I didn’t know you.” He looked into her eyes. “But now I do, and everything will be different. I promise I’ll be a better husband.”

  But as his lips came down to brush lightly across hers, Sarah realized miserably that he still did not know her. Not at all. If he did, the feelings and passions that had grown between them would surely die.

  Her heart wrenched. She could not let that happen. Even if it meant lying to Briggs for the rest of their lives.

  His mouth closed over hers, and she decided with staunch determination that he would never know the truth. She would carry her secret to the grave—that Garrison had been far more than just a lover to her. And Heaven help her, if Garrison ever learned that she’d revealed their crimes to anyone—much less married someone else—he would spare nothing to hunt her down. Both she and Briggs would be in danger. The whole wicked truth would come spilling out, and the world would know that she was not a sweet, wholesome mail-order bride. She was a terrible sinner and a criminal who deserved to be punished.

  For she, Sarah Jane Brigman, had knowingly married a man when she was still married to another.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Sarah woke beneath Briggs’s buckskin coat, the fringe tickling her nose. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned, noticing that her long skirt was draped over her legs like a blanket. Sometime during the night, Briggs must have covered her. His kindness caused her a terrible twinge of guilt.

  She remembered the day she had answered his advertisement for a wife and how she had not revealed her true situation. She had not wanted to admit to herself back then that she was being dishonest. Her marriage to Garrison was irrelevant, she’d told herself. Legally, it did not exist.

  But she doubted Briggs would be much interested in the legalities. He’d only care that she had kept something else from him.

  She covered her face with a hand and squeezed her eyes shut. She had not known Garrison at all when she’d agreed to marry him. She had been so naïve, so lonely after her parents died, she’d only wanted to be loved by someone again. If only she had been stronger, able to take care of herself, like she was now.

  She hoped she was strong enough to live with this dishonesty.

  Sarah buried her face in the pillow. She hadn’t counted on falling in love with a man who valued honesty and trust more than her pretty face. She would never forgive herself for lying to Briggs, but she’d had no choice from the beginning. Garrison was a dangerous man. There’s no telling what he might have done if she’d told him she wanted out of their unpleasant arrangement. And now… If he found out that someone knew the truth…

  She couldn’t put Brigg’s life at risk. If anything ever happened to him….

  Somehow, she would have to find the strength to continue living this lie, no matter how much it killed her inside.

  * * *

  A short time later, Sarah rose from bed, pulled on her clothes and lit
the stove. As soon as the fire was roaring, she climbed the steps to go outside and fill the coffee pot with water. A warm shiver coursed through her. Despite everything, she could still feel the pleasure of Briggs’s touch, the joy of being held in his arms the night before, and the eroticism of his kiss. As she dipped the pot into the barrel, the cool liquid touched her fingers and she was intensely aware of physical sensations—the bright sunlight on her cheeks, the smell of cows and horses and pigs, the cold wetness on her hand.

  Life was full of miracles, she realized, admiring the sunrise as she returned to the house. Even for those who did not deserve them.

  She was just preparing to go out and milk Maddie when Briggs walked in carrying a bucket. Her heart quickened at the sight of him—hair disheveled around his shoulders, face shadowed with whiskers, and a smile moving across those gorgeous, seductive lips. She couldn’t prevent a surge of arousal as she remembered how those lips had kissed her the night before, and where they had kissed her….

  “Good morning,” Briggs said, setting the bucket down, the rope handle dropping silently. With two long strides, he approached Sarah, backed her up against the sod wall and swept her weightlessly into his arms. His mouth covered hers and she responded with parted lips, sliding her hands up under the thick hair at his nape and into a delectable warmth there. His kiss fired through her veins and thawed the morning chill still lingering in her bones. By the time he came away, she felt dazed and overheated.

  “Good morning,” she sputtered, fighting to keep her balance.

  “I brought you some milk.” He walked to the bed and examined it. “You know, I think what’s left of the corn stalks would be perfect for a bigger mattress.”

  The idea of a bigger bed breathed new life into Sarah’s tired spirit, knowing that Briggs intended to share the bed with her from now on. Dreams could come true, she thought again, but realized with some disappointment that she did not feel completely happy. Perhaps one day, she would be able to forget.

  They moved to the table and Briggs sat down. “Cornbread?” she asked, snatching her thoughts back to where they were needed. “Or I could make cornmeal griddle cakes if you feel like waiting for me to gather some eggs.”

  “That sounds delicious.”

  She dug into the bag of meal but turned when Shadow barked outside. She looked questioningly at Briggs, who rose and climbed the steps.

  “Howard!” he called from the door. “Good to see you!”

  Thrilled to be receiving her first guest since she’d arrived at the homestead, Sarah wiped her hands on a towel and hurried up the steps to greet their neighbor. Howard sat high in the wagon seat, rubbing his dark beard. Although happy to see him, Sarah felt mildly disappointed that Martha hadn’t accompanied him.

  “Hello, Sarah,” he said, touching the brim of his straw hat. He set the brake and hopped down, giving Shadow a quick pat on the head.

  “Have you had breakfast, Howard?” she asked. “I’m just about to cook up some griddle cakes if you’d like some.”

  “Appreciate the offer but I just finished a meal and I can’t stay long. I’m on my way to Dodge.” He turned to Briggs. “I see you didn’t escape the swarm.”

  Sarah stood and listened for a moment, but retreated into the house when the men decided to walk into the field to survey the damage. She worried about Martha, unable to imagine how it would feel to be a mother without food for her children. Sarah decided to go and visit as soon as she could.

  About a half-hour later, Briggs came into the house and walked to the far corner. “Howard’s heading into town now,” he said, pulling the bed out from the wall.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah asked.

  He crouched down and lifted a small tin box out of a hole in the floor. “I’m giving him some money to buy seed for fall wheat.”

  Sarah watched him rifle through the box, then set it back in the hole and pull the bed over it.

  “I didn’t think we had any money,” she mentioned.

  He stopped and looked at her. “We don’t. I mean, this is it and it’s going with Howard.” Briggs approached her. “What’s wrong?”

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Nothing. I just hope everything will be all right. What if something happens to this crop, too?”

  “Don’t worry,” he replied, kissing her cheek.

  “But if something does happen, what will we do?”

  He touched her arm. “We’ll get by.”

  “But I don’t want you to go away.”

  He touched her shoulder. “I won’t go. I promise. Everything will be fine.”

  Despite her fears, he was her husband and she had to trust him.

  As he walked out the door to give Howard their only savings—at least the only savings she knew about—she wondered with an aching heart how much money they could get for her mother’s fine pearls. She prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  * * *

  The match whisked and flared between Briggs’s finger and thumb. Slowly, watching it burn, he touched it to the chips in the stove. Within seconds, the fire caught and he closed the door.

  He turned to look at Sarah in the dim lamplight, lying back on the bed, waiting expectantly for him.

  “My God, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, wondering how he could ever have wished Sarah to be plain. She was perfect just the way she was—her black hair splayed out on the pillow, her full lips moist and parted, her sweet cheeks flushed. He sauntered toward her, grinning, a ripple of anticipation moving through him. He would undress her again, piece by piece, and enjoy every minute of it.

  He would enjoy every minute of the rest of their lives.

  Good God, did he care for her that much?

  He stopped and paused, pulse thrumming in his head. He wasn’t ready to feel so much, so fast.

  “Is something wrong?” Sarah asked, leaning up on one elbow.

  Startled, he smothered his fears and walked to the bed. “No, nothing at all. I just wanted to look at you. Why don’t I remove your boots?” He sat at the foot of the bed and untied the laces, then pulled each one off and set them lightly on the floor. “And your stockings….”

  In a few seconds, he was rubbing her calves and massaging her small, delicate feet.

  “That feels nice,” she said, leaning up on her elbows again. “But why are you being so good to me?”

  He grinned. “What makes you think I’m not enjoying this?” Pressing his thumbs into the silky arch of her foot, he massaged in tiny circles. “Pleasure for you is pleasure for me.”

  She tilted her pretty head to the side, considering his answer. “I didn’t think it was like that for a man.”

  “Well, maybe you learned from the wrong man.”

  Sarah paled, and he went still, realizing he’d once again said the wrong thing. Several seconds of uncomfortable silence filtered between them.

  “I suppose I did,” Sarah finally said, lying back. “But I believe the right man is going to teach me everything I didn’t know, and then I will know what I’ve been missing.”

  Her words reassured him, and he felt a strange, soft comfort. They’d come a long way since their first day on the prairie. There was forgiveness between them now. He set his hands back to work, massaging her lovely feet.

  Later that night as they were making love, their bodies moving together in exquisite harmony, Briggs felt a tension mount as his body arched in a burning release. He was wanting her so much more than he’d ever intended. He felt a sudden urge to resist it, to fight it, because he feared the inevitable loss of her, as he’d lost so many others he cared about. How long would it be before he surrendered to it and let go of his fears?

  Exhausted and confused, he collapsed on top of Sarah. She squeezed him tightly, nibbling at his earlobe. “Was that good?” she asked innocently.

  “Yes, my angel.”

  He told himself to enjoy her, to let himself fall in love with her. She was his wife, after all.

  He buried his face into
her thick, black hair. “But satisfied only for a short time, I think. Then I might like to do that again.”

  “I was thinking exactly the same thing,” she answered breathlessly, and he held her closer than he’d ever held anyone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A week later, pale gray clouds settled over the prairie, their cottony textures seeming near enough to touch. The air was heavy and uncommonly still, the distant horizon shrouded in mist.

  Sarah walked back from the barn carrying a bucket of fresh milk, and feeling the prickly rope-handle dig into her palm. Breathing fast, she struggled not to spill any of her precious cargo. She would set the bucket out over night to let the cream rise to the top, then wear herself out making yet another batch of butter to trade for wool blankets.

  “Come, Shadow!” she called over her shoulder as she reached the door to the dugout. “It looks like rain.”

  The dog trotted out of the chicken coop, creating a flurry of feathery commotion and clucking, and his cheerful wagging tail swept Sarah’s skirt as he passed by.

  Inside and down the steps, the house seemed darker than usual for this time of day, the clouds stealing what light could normally sneak into the tiny dwelling. Sarah set down her bucket and rubbed her reddened palm. She looked around the empty house and decided to light the lantern to avoid straining her eyes. Shadow yawned and stretched out next to the unlit stove.

  As she struck the match and touched the flame to the lantern wick, she reminded herself to purchase matches before winter came. And more lamp oil.

  Oh, how would her meager butter collection pay for everything if something happened to the fall wheat? There was no chance she’d be able to churn enough to save her from selling her mother’s pearls. But she would if she had to.

  She glanced curiously at the bed made of narrow tree stumps, wondering if the box beneath it contained any money besides what Briggs had given to Howard. Strange, that her husband had not mentioned the box before, but she supposed he had never mentioned much of anything at all.