by Cassie Hayes
Finally, Bart’s anger got the better of him. “I’m not going anywhere, Walt. No offense to this lovely young lady, but I told you I didn’t want a wife. I told you I was leaving here in a year or so. Did you think you could bully me into marrying, just like you’ve bullied me into doing stuff all my life? No more, brother. It stops now. I’m not gonna marry…what’s your name again, miss?”
Her face had softened some, though he didn’t know why. “Bonnie Blue,” she nearly whispered.
“I’m not gonna marry Bonnie Blue here, only to leave her in the lurch when it’s time for me to go. What kind of man would do that? Not this man, that’s for darned tootin’!”
Walt’s smile turned hard and he pulled his brother off to the side. “What do you think you’ll be doing if you leave her standing here on this platform, brother? ‘Sides, look at her. It’s not like she’s got a lot of prospects.”
Bart looked over at Bonnie, but he didn’t understand what his brother was talking about. What was wrong with her? Sure, she was just a little bit of a thing, but that was nothing some hard work and good food couldn’t cure.
Didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to let himself be roped into marrying anyone, especially out of guilt. Walt brought her out here under false pretenses, so she was his responsibility, not Bart’s.
“Mr. Dalton,” she called. “May I have a word in private?”
Bart didn’t like the gleam in her eye, and he really didn’t like the way his heart beat just a little faster when she said his name. But he couldn’t very well not talk to her. He’d just explain the situation and send her back home — and make Walt pay for her ticket.
When they were away from the other two couples, she turned to face him. “Mr. Dalton—“ she started.
“You can call me Bart,” he interrupted. “Listen, I’m sorry about my brother, and I’m sorry about all of this—“
It was her turn to interrupt. “Please stop and listen to my proposition.”
Her tone was firm but not commanding. Seeing as how he was going to be putting her on the next train back to wherever she came from, the least he could do was listen to what she had to say.
“Thank you,” she said when he waved a hand at her to continue. “This…this hasn’t turned out like I expected at all. I can only imagine how you’re feeling about it. But let me propose an…arrangement.”
She moved toward him a half a step, her skirts rustling and brushing the leg of his trousers. He was amused by the fact that the top of her chestnut head just barely reached his chin. She had to crane her neck back just to look him in the eye.
Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one could hear them, she lowered her voice and continued. “I want only the best for my sisters, which was why I deceived Gwen about our real reason for coming here. I suspect the same holds true for your brother Walton.”
She was right, of course. As riled as he was, Bart wouldn’t hold a grudge because his ‘big brother’ was doing what he thought was was for the best. Even though it wasn’t.
“I hatched this plan to escape from a…bad situation back home. It was my idea, I planned it, I risked everything to come here, and now I’m about to be left in the lurch with no option open to me but to return home and endure a life of misery.”
Bart felt bad for the little fireball. He had a hard time believing she’d stand for any sort of mistreatment, so whatever she was facing must be wretched indeed.
“From what I gather, you have no desire to settle down, is that right?”
“That’s right. I’m a bit of a drifter, y’see. Always have been. I’m only here to help my brothers, and then I’ll light out again for wherever the trail takes me. It’s no life for a lady, and I’m not one of those scoundrels who would take advantage of a situation like this.”
He hoped he was making his meaning clear because he didn’t want to offend her delicate sensibilities by speaking more plainly. But she seemed smart as a whip and proved it by nodding.
“I appreciate that. So what if I suggested a plan that benefitted us both?”
He was intrigued. “I’m listening.”
She cut her eyes around them again to make sure the coast was clear. “You don’t want a wife, but you probably do need someone to manage your homestead. When you finally leave for good, do you expect your brothers and their wives — my sisters — to add your homestead to their list of duties? That seems a bit unfair doesn’t it?”
Bart had honestly never thought of what would happen to his homestead after he left. He was more focused on getting the ranch up and running. “I suppose…”
“I have never had any romantic delusions that I would marry for love, but I can assure you that I would make an excellent wife, even if in name only. I was the best cook in my hometown, so I would keep you well fed while you’re here. I can sew faster than any professional seamstress, so I can make and mend all your clothes. And, as you might have noticed, I’m smart. I can keep your books so you’ll never have to think about such things.”
Those were all things he hated doing, that much was true. But he still wasn’t sure what she was suggesting. The confusion must have been written all over his face.
“My proposition is this: We marry today as planned.”
His eyes popped wide and his jaw dropped as he tried to find the words to balk at her. But she continued quickly, before he could object.
“I will make a wonderful home for you to return to every night, full of food and comfort. That’s probably something you didn’t see much of during your travels. In return, I won’t have to go home. I will live a life of independence, managing your portion of the ranch for you when you leave. If you ever decide to come back, everything will be in order for you. Think of it as your home base from which you can travel to your heart’s content.”
Bart was surprised at how appealing the idea sounded to him. Good meals were few and far between on the trail, much less a comfortable place to lay his head. And it would certainly ease his brothers’ burden to know at least his portion of the spread was cared for when he left.
“So you’d basically be my house manager?” He’d been around enough to see that rich folk had all sorts of funny jobs for people, such as the lady in New Orleans who had a house manager.
Bonnie was familiar with the term and smiled. “Exactly.”
Bart scratched at the scruff on his chin absentmindedly as he thought things over. “Miss Blue—“
“Bonnie, please.”
“Alrighty. Bonnie. You have to know that I light off every now again as it is. Can’t stand being all cooped up like a chicken. Also, my place…it’s not made for a lady such as yourself. I’m afraid you’ll be mighty disappointed when you see it.”
The smile she gave him didn’t quite reach her pretty green eyes. “Trust me, the alternative is far worse. Do we have a deal?”
Bart looked over at his brothers, his heart aching with happiness that they seemed so taken with their brides. It would worry them if they knew about this bargain, and he didn’t want them to worry. He’d tell them when the time came to leave, just as he had when they were seventeen.
“Under one condition,” he finally replied. “You and I will know it’s a business partnership, not a real marriage. But everyone else needs to believe we’re happy or it will lead to too many questions. Agreed?”
Bonnie thought on this for a brief moment before nodding her head and sticking her hand out for him to shake. That seemed overly formal under the circumstances, and now was as good a time as any to start the charade.
Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame in a brief hug. Her hair smelled of train smoke and roses, and before he knew what he was doing, he’d buried his nose in her neck and was breathing deeply.
Behind him, he heard Walt whoop in approval. He was already buying their act.
Too bad Bart hadn’t been acting.
Chapter 5
Bonnie reeled when Bart finally released her
from the hug. Luckily, he draped his arm over her shoulder as part of the performance he was giving for his brothers, otherwise she might have toppled over right there on the platform.
Never in her life had a man embraced her in that way, never mind one as handsome as Bart, and it sent an unfamiliar sensation through her. Quite honestly, it made her uncomfortable. She could only hope he would keep those kinds of embraces to a minimum in the future. And if he didn’t, she’d have to put her foot down.
The next couple of hours were a whirlwind as the six of them walked down to a small, quaint church. They all stood in a line in front of the preacher and he married them at the same time. The only thing she really remembered from the quick ceremony was being embarrassed at how filthy she was and, of course, the kiss.
“You may now kiss the brides,” the preacher said, smiling at them expectantly.
Bonnie blinked up at Bart, wondering if his kiss would warm her as much as his hug had. Her cheeks flushed as he dipped his head and barely brushed his lips across hers. He smelled of sandalwood and campfire, and the scruff of his beard felt scratchy. It was over in a heartbeat but she knew her lips would burn for hours. She’d never been kissed before, after all. It had to be natural to feel that way after a first kiss.
No wonder Gwen likes to kiss men so much, she thought as Bart led her back down the aisle.
But the moment they all stepped outside, the slightly dizzy feeling she had was replaced with cold, hard reality.
“Bonnie Blue, you’ll have to ride with one of my brothers,” Bart said, rather nonchalantly for someone who was trying to keep up appearances. “I didn’t bring a wagon and I don’t think you’d be comfortable riding with me on Roamer for three hours.”
“You can ride with us,” chimed in Libby, giddily holding onto Nate’s arm and grinning from ear to ear. Nate didn’t seem totally thrilled with the idea, but Walt was already dragging Gwen off to his wagon so he didn’t have much choice.
She rather expected Bart to follow them, but as soon as he helped her into the dirty bed of Nate’s wagon, he’d hopped on his beautiful horse and set off out of town on his own. Bonnie knew it was foolish to feel hurt but she couldn’t stop herself.
For three hours, Bonnie’s bones were rattled in the back of the Nate’s buckboard while she listened to Libby prattle on like a schoolgirl. Dust swirled around the back of the wagon and settled on her, which seemed just about right after everything that had happened.
For three hours, she stewed on the events of the day. From expecting to be the first bride chosen to being the one nobody wanted. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. She’d let her guard down, forgot her place in the world. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
For three hours, she relived the brief hug and light kiss Bart had given her over and over, trying to burn every detail into her memory. Even though she knew they weren’t real, those were almost certainly the only embraces she would ever enjoy for the rest of her life, and she didn’t want them to fade from her memory.
And she couldn’t forget the moment he called her lovely. No one had ever said that about her before. Undoubtedly he’d simply said it to be kind, but she couldn’t deny that she liked it.
Dark fell before they reached the Daltons’ cabins. They were all clustered within walking distance and, as far as Bonnie could see in the moonlight, they were nearly identical. Smaller than she expected, considering their husbands were ranchers, but they could always be expanded.
Nate pulled to a stop in front of one cabin. “This is Bart’s…I mean, your home, Miss Blue.”
Bonnie liked Nate immediately. He was kind and had good manners. Not like their ringleader, Walt, in the slightest.
“I suppose I’m Mrs. Walton now, Nate, but I’d prefer if you called me Bonnie.”
He helped her down from the wagon, both of them looking around for Bart, who should have been there to offload his new wife. “Should I bring the trunk inside, Miss…um, Bonnie?”
The sisters had agreed to have her sort out their belongings, which would undoubtedly need ironing, at the very least. “Please and thank you, Nate.”
She grabbed one end of the trunk and together they lugged it up the steps to the front door. Unsure of whether she should knock or just walk in, she paused. But Bart saved her from making the wrong choice by throwing the door open wide and beaming at them.
That smile. It did things to her insides. So much so that she had to look away to catch her breath.
“Welcome home, Bonnie Blue. Here, let me grab that.”
He and Nate set the trunk inside the front door, and Nate beat feet out of the house. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to spend some time alone with his new bride. Hopefully their mother had taught poor Libby everything she needed to know for her wedding night.
Bonnie winced at the irony. She was probably the only Blue sister who knew what went on in the marriage bed, and she was the only one who wouldn’t be making use of that knowledge.
Ever.
Taking a deep breath, she took a good look at her new home. The main room was tiny — not much bigger than her and Libby’s bedroom in Beckham — but it probably looked bigger than his brothers’ homes because he had no furniture. None!
There was one pathetic little rough hewn table along a wall and one chair. Just one! Where on earth would they both sit? A few short steps took her to the sad excuse for a kitchen. The only thing going for it was a brand new stove but, as far as she could tell, there were no utensils, pots or pans, and she suspected she wouldn’t find any plates or cutlery, either.
Dismay must have been written all over her face because Bart stuttered an apology. “I’m real sorry, Miss…I mean, Bonnie. I only use this place to sleep in, and sometimes not even then. I eat all my meals at Nate’s or Walt’s, and I never entertain.”
“I see,” she mumbled.
“But listen. I ran ahead and raided Walt’s place a little. I wasn’t sure what you might need to get started, but it’s all in that crate there.”
“You stole from your own brother?” What kind of man did she marry? By all indications, Bart had seemed to be a respectful man, even if he was perpetually late. But now she was worried he was a thief — or worse.
He smirked at her as he started pulling pans and jars from the crate. “You ask me, he deserved it for playing Nate and me like suckers.”
He had a point. After all, Walt hadn’t given his brothers time to prepare for a wife, so she could hardly blame Bart for not having a beautifully furnished house with a fully stocked larder. Besides, Gwen would most certainly not miss any of the supplies Bart was setting on the rough board that acted as a shelf. Poor girl never learned to cook.
Looking over what he’d snitched from his brother’s place, Bonnie quickly planned out a meal. It wouldn’t be fancy but it would be filling. She was starving, and Bart looked like he needed a few good meals to put some meat on his bones.
Leveling a firm gaze at him, she used her sternest tone. “You understand that this—“ she waved a hand around the small cabin, “—isn’t acceptable long-term, right? Obviously, this house requires more furnishings, as well as such silly things as food.”
Bonnie was disarmed by the twinkle in his eye. Normally that tone made people fidget at best, and cry at worst. But Bart seemed almost amused by it.
“Understood, ma’am,” he said with a wink. “Make a list and, when I get a free day, I’ll take you and your sisters to Wiggieville for the bigger stuff. Till then, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to rough it a little.”
“I’m not afraid of that,” she said, shooing him out of the kitchen. “First off, let’s get something in our bellies. All I’ve had to eat today was a piece of your brother Nate’s jerky.”
“And what’s second off?” he asked, settling himself at the table.
“We talk.”
Chapter 6
Bart had ridden poor old Roamer home as hard as he dared but it was still half the speed the horse was
used to. He tugged at his reins, urging his master to let him fly, like the good old days, but Bart was concerned about that split hoof. A lifetime of traveling had taken a toll on the old boy, a toll Bart was just now noticing.
The three-hour ride back to the ranch after his hasty wedding gave him time to think. What had Walt been thinking? Of course Bonnie had been right that his brother sent away for those three women with only the best intentions, but Bart was mighty sick of Walt making decisions like that for him. Maybe Nate didn’t mind, but he wouldn’t stand much more of it.
The worst part was putting him in such an awkward position. That poor woman thought she was getting a new husband, a new life. No matter what Walt was expecting, Bart refused to mislead her. But she barely batted an eye at his plain talk, and then she’d come up with a plan that, at first blush, sounded pretty good all around.
Bonnie was the smartest of those three sisters, that much was certain. Probably the smartest woman he’d ever met, and he’d met quite a few bright sparks in his travels. On top of that, she had integrity, which was a rare quality in most human beings, in his experience.
As a drifter, Bart was distrustful by nature. If you didn’t watch out for yourself, someone was bound to come along and take advantage. He’d had hidden pockets sewn into all his traveling clothes for the sole purpose of hiding valuables, and he had to use all his fingers and toes to count how many times they’d served him well.
But for some strange reason, he wasn’t at all suspicious of Bonnie. It might have been different with her sisters — that blonde was trouble if he ever saw it and the quiet brunette was too naive to trust — but Bonnie was as true a woman as he’d ever met. He couldn’t explain how he knew in such a short time but he did.
Which made him all the more glad he didn’t try to deceive her. She wasn’t under any illusions that theirs would be a ‘real’ marriage. He’d get a house manager and she’d have a home. Basically, she’d be his most trusted employee.
Perfect!
