by P. Creeden
“Yes, Miss Stewart has a cousin who is willing to become your bride. If you agree, she’ll be on the next train heading west. Her name is Bethany Campbell, and that’s the only stipulation that might be a sticking point. The woman is a widow, so you need to agree that you are all right with that.”
“A widow?” Marcus blinked again. At least it wasn’t a child he’d be marrying. “Does she have children? How old is she?”
“I knew you’d ask, so I sent back a telegram asking the same.” The lawyer pulled out another slip of yellow paper. “Ms. Bethany Campbell is twenty-two years old and childless.”
Relief overcame him. This was a woman who was already accustomed to being a wife. Maybe that was a good thing, maybe she’d be more willing to work with him and not try to train him into something else. If she was part of the Stewart family, at least they weren’t trying to marry him for political reasons. Instead, this was all a part of his grandfather’s controlling him from the grave. “All right then. Send word that I agree to marry this Ms. Campbell, provided that she meets all the criteria my grandfather outlined. Be sure of it, Mr. Brown. I don’t want to go into this marriage half way and then come to the realization that she is not Scottish, or some such reason that makes it so the stipulations of my grandfather’s will were not met.”
“Understandable,” the lawyer said with a smile as he glanced at the pocket watch he’d had tucked away in his vest pocket. “I’ll head back to town directly and send word after I review your grandfather’s will and make sure that she meets with the criteria. I’m very happy this is coming to a good outcome.”
Without another word, the lawyer turned about and started for the front door of the ranch house. Marcus leaned hard against the mantle, wishing he could just escape all of this. He didn’t want to marry a woman he didn’t know, but here he was, agreeing to it. He didn’t want to run the ranch on his own, but it was either that or have the ranch sold and all of their workers out on their ears just before Christmas. Marcus glanced up at the advent calendar that one of the servants had set up. How had it become December so quickly? The first three days of the calendar were open. How many more would be open before his new bride arrived?
His heart sunk at the thought. It mattered little as long as she was here long before the clock ran out on his grandfather’s will. Provided they were married by the day before Christmas eve, they’d all be safe.
Bethany had felt little more than a pretender the entirety of her four-day train ride to Oklahoma. Her new family, the Stewarts, had kept her in New York for three days, allowing her to finish healing and to shop for everything she might need for her new life in Oklahoma. When Bethany tried to stop them, Claudia and her mother shook their heads and emphasized that they were so generous because they wanted to show their gratefulness for the steps that Bethany had been willing to take for them. “We know you’re uprooting your whole life for this and we want to make sure that you never regret it,” Claudia had told her.
Both women wouldn’t stop hugging her and the family insisted on her staying in their guest room until she left by train that Saturday, the seventh of December. Bethany was left to wonder if it was because they feared she might run away if they let her out of their sight. But that wasn’t the kind of woman Bethany was. She’d given her word after finding peace about the decision in prayer. That was the end of it. Until she stood on the platform in Oklahoma and wished for the first time that she could peel off this costume—these clothes that made her feel as though she were pretending to be someone else—and just turn around and leave. But where would she go? How could she let the Stewarts down like that? She couldn’t, and she knew she couldn’t.
“Ms. Campbell?” a young man asked as he stepped up toward her with his hat in his hands. His brown hair curled at his ears and everywhere on his head where the hatband had left an impression. His green eyes sparkled up at her in question.
For a moment, she was taken by his good looks, then she blinked and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Excellent,” he said with a wide smile and then waved for another cowboy to join him. “Is this your trunk? We’ll load it up in the wagon for you.”
She nodded again, struck dumb once more by his smile. There was something about him. Even though he looked nothing like her ex-husband, Scott, there was something about his easy smile and innocent eyes that reminded her of him. Unfortunately, from his dress and demeanor, she assumed he was one of the cowboys who worked the ranch, and likely wasn’t the heir to it, Mr. Young. She let out a breath. At least she’d discovered that Mr. Marcus Young was the same age as her. If he’d been twenty years older, she’d been stuck in a marriage with a very old man, and wasn’t sure how she’d be able to handle that. After letting out a breath, she followed the two cowboys who’d taken her trunk while she gripped the wooden handles of her carpet bag with both hands. Once at the cart, the same young man offered her a hand to help her up onto the seat. She took his hand, and could feel the warmth of it through the thin fabric of her glove and a shiver ran through her as her heart began to race. As she hopped up into the cart and sat, her fingers lingered on his rough, calloused palm. He’d worked hard on the ranch, and it showed, even as his muscled forearms bulged under the wool shirt he wore. She blinked at herself when her eyes met his and he smiled at her again.
No. What was she doing? She was about to get married, and she was almost flirting with one of her future husband’s workers. She was a terrible, terrible person. As she clasped her hands together she sent up a quick prayer of gratitude to God and asked for forgiveness for her wayward thoughts. The other cowboy hopped up into the back of the cart, leaving her to sit alone on the front seat with the driver who she couldn’t help but feel a warm attraction to.
“That’s it, Marcus. I’m ready,” the cowboy in the back said.
Bethany blinked at him. “Marcus?”
That disarming smile appeared again. “I’m sorry. I neglected to introduce myself. I’m Marcus Young, and back there is Freddy Mickel.”
“You... You’re Marcus Young?” She swallowed hard, butterflies suddenly taking flight in her stomach.
He tipped his hat toward her. “Yes, ma’am. I hope you’re not disappointed.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, not at all.”
Then heat rushed to her cheeks at the same time as a bit of color came to Marcus’s cheeks. How could she have said something so honestly? She chided herself for being too open again.
“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean... I mean...”
He tipped his head toward her. “It’s all right. An honest woman is hard to find.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest as he picked up the reins and clucked to the horses pulling the cart. Almost immediately, the cart jostled, and she found herself falling away from the gentleman in the cart and off the seat toward the street. A squeal escaped her lips before she suddenly felt an hand on her waist. His arm wrapped around her and he pulled her toward him. Her eyes met his again, the same shade of green as her own. She swallowed hard, unable to break eye contact with him.
“Are you okay,” he asked, slowly sliding his hand along her back and removing it from her waist. She felt heat sear every part of her that he’d touched, even though there was fabric between his fingers and her skin.
She nodded and leaned forward, gripping the seat just a bit. “I’ll hold on better.”
“It’ll be all right. The road’s a little rough through this part of town, but soon things will smooth out.”
And just as the words left his lips, the road did smooth out. She released her grip and let her back rest against the back of the seat. Could her life become like the road there? She couldn’t help but send that petition up to God. After the rough patch she’d had to endure the last few weeks, it would be more than a blessing if things would smooth from here on out. As she studied her future husband’s profile, she hoped that they might.
Chapter 10
Marcus’s heart fluttered the mome
nt that he spotted the redhead standing in a light green traveling dress on the platform of the train station. She was much prettier than he’d hoped, and he almost felt shy as he stepped up to her and asked if she was the person he was looking for. When she answered in affirmative, he though his heart would leap from his chest. Then he’d discovered that he truly was shy around her, because he’d even forgotten to introduce himself. The feelings that he was having for her weren’t what he’d expected. He’d expected a loveless marriage arrangement that they would somehow make work. Now he was finding himself affected by her in ways he hadn’t planned for. It surprised him. The wagon lurched and she began to fall. He darted out his hand and caught her by the waist. Pulling her closer to himself, he caught a whiff of lilacs and vanilla. She smelled heavenly.
Once the road smoothed out, he felt as though he were on a cloud. It’s true that he hadn’t been around many women in his life. His grandfather had hired a male tutor that gave him a full grade school education. Then Marcus had gone straight from that into doing ranch work. The only women who he had anything to do with were the maids around the house, but they were all at least ten years older than him, as though his grandfather had purposefully hired staff that weren’t likely to corrupt his grandson. The scullery maid was about thirty, the same as Freddy, which is why the older cowboy often flirted with her. But still, Marcus had met several young women at church and at social situations, like his grandfather’s yearly Christmas party, but none of them had quite the affect on him as Bethany Campbell had on him within five minutes of their meeting.
She was... interesting. That was the only way he could put it. He wanted to find out more about her. Maybe it was because the prospect of marriage loomed in the very near future for the two of them. Maybe it had set the stage for Marcus to want to learn more. Either way, he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. He cleared his throat and tried to overcome his shyness. “Have you ever been to Oklahoma before?”
A very feminine huff came out her nose as she shook her head beside him. “No. I’ve never been west of the city, actually. I’ve spent my entire life in New York.”
He blinked. “Wow. So then you’ve never seen open land like this then?”
“Only in Central Park... but that’s not really exactly like this, either. It’s only a fraction of the size, for the most part. I mean, Central Park is huge, but much of it is wooded and you never quite forget that you’re in the city. It’s not quiet like it is here,” she said, her hands folded in her lap.
For a long moment, he listened to the sound of their wheels rolling against the smooth ground and the horse’s hooves clopping. Except for the occasional bird call, they were the only sounds around. Then he cleared his throat. “Did your travel go well? I haven’t really been on a train, myself.”
“It was my first time, too. It was... interesting. I liked watching the scenery go by. The conductors and people who worked on the train were very friendly, and passengers did what they could to occupy each other. I struck up a nice conversation with a woman who was heading to Denver to become a female Pinkerton Detective.” She laughed and shook her head. “I consider myself adventurous, but that would be quite a bit more of an undertaking than I’d be ready for.”
He laughed. “I’ve read about the great female Pinkerton Agent, Kate Warne, but I had no idea that it was a normal hiring practice for the agency.”
“Neither did I. But the woman I met was extremely smart and talented, and declared that she wouldn’t have been happy with just a marriage and family. She has wanderlust, dreams of doing something great before settling down.” Bethany laughed and shook her head. “I’ve always thought I’d be happy just to have a husband I want to take care of and children. My goals weren’t so lofty as hers.”
If a laugh could sound like the tinkling of bells or the voice of angels singing, that’s what it sounded like when Bethany laughed. The hairs on the back of Marcus’s neck stood on end at the sound of it and he felt prickles down his spine. He wanted to hear it again. But when he looked over at her, she felt warm and comforting to him. And the pleasant conversation they’d been enjoying was more than amicable. Sitting with her like this as they made their way back to the ranch made the time go by so quickly that he’d almost forgotten to make his turn down the long drive down to the main house.
“Is this really your ranch?”
From the back of the cart, Freddy said, “Yes, it’s a beauty, isn’t it. The fencing is all post and rail. The elder Mr. Young was a stickler for it. He said that if he couldn’t have a stone wall, he’d have post and rail fencing. He was very much a man of the old ways. I’m surprised he didn’t wear a kilt and play bagpipes.”
“You don’t know what he did in the privacy of his own study,” Marcus said with a wink toward Bethany.
A delicious shade of pink tinged her cheeks as she obviously thought of what that might look like. His heart fluttered just to know that his words affected her too. Marcus couldn’t help but laugh to himself. As far as he knew, his grandfather didn’t ever wear a kilt or even own a set of bagpipes, but it made a fun image and he felt comfortable enough with Bethany that he could make a joke like that. It lightened the mood and lightened his heart. Slowly, he was coming to the realization that maybe this whole thing could work out well after all.
When they got to the main barn, one of the stable hands rushed out to greet them and take the reins of the horse and cart. Marcus and Freddy each grabbed hold of a side of the trunk from the back and then started toward the house. Bethany followed them. Maybe Marcus’s grandfather had been right all along about this marriage thing. Something about having Bethany follow Marcus around made him feel like becoming a good leader. A good husband for her. Maybe even, someday, a good father. The thought of that sent a rush of heat to the surface of his skin, and he ducked his head to keep anyone from seeing his cheeks and judging him before he had a chance to compose himself.
Once they made it inside, Marcus smiled to himself. The maids were hanging bows of holly up and down the sides of main foyer and toward the large dining room. Sitting just over the entrance to the dining room was a green and white ball of mistletoe. Every year, couples would line up under the ball for a kiss on the night of his grandfather’s Christmas party, but Marcus had never participated in the pastime as he had no one to couple with. He glanced sheepishly at Bethany and imagined for half a moment what it would be like to kiss her before chiding himself and turning away from her. Now wasn’t the time to be having such thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Galena, would you please show Ms. Campbell to her room? The justice of the peace will be here later this afternoon.”
“Justice of the peace?” Bethany asked, a hand fluttering to her chest. “Today?”
His shoulders fell in disappointment. He hadn’t wanted them to, and yet they did. “Is that all right? I just don’t want to wait another day if we don’t have to. I’ve got no family to wait on to come to a wedding. And from what I understand your family is remaining in New York. Since there’s nothing stopping us from getting the ceremony done, I thought it’d be best to get it over with as soon as possible. Don’t you think?”
Chapter 11
Bethany scolded herself. How stupid had she been? All this time, her heart had been telling her that Marcus was a great prospective husband. He seemed kind and good-natured. Just because she’d started developing feelings for him, didn’t mean that he was developing them for her, too. For him this was just a business arrangement. He had no feelings involved in this. Of course he wanted to get this all over with as soon as possible. “Yes. This afternoon is fine,” she said and then followed the maid, Galena, up the staircase.
Once there, they turned into the room two doors down. It was a fine, utilitarian room without feminine graces. Nothing like Claudia’s room or even the guest room in the Stewart house, where Bethany had stayed the last few days before leaving New York. But the small bed left her wondering. She turned to Galena. “Is this my room? Where does
the master of the house stay?”
“You mean Marcus?” the woman’s brow furrowed. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman almost reminded Bethany of all the women who’d just gotten off the boats from Holland lately in the city, only Galena was probably almost twice the age of those girls.
“Umm... Yes,” Bethany said, realizing that he’d only recently even become master of the house. Of course, the maid might immediately think of the former master of the house, too.
Galena pointed across the hallway. “Marcus stays across the hall directly from you, although there is talk that eventually he will move into the master suite down the hallway. That is where the elder Mr. Young used to stay.”
Slowly Bethany nodded. “Of course.”
Her heart rate sped up when she thought about whether she’d be expected to move down the hallway with Marcus when he moved into the master suite. Her cheeks grew warm again. Ever since arriving in Oklahoma, she’d been affected by every little thought or action that Marcus made. She needed to quit and get a hold of her heart before it got her into trouble. She let out a deep breath.
“Do you need anything else?” the elder maid asked.
“I should be fine. Thank you, Galena.”
“Excellent. I will come fetch you when the justice of the peace arrives. And if you need help getting into a dress for the wedding, let me know. I’m happy to assist.”
“Thank you again.”
Galena nodded and then backed out of the door, closing it behind her as she exited. Now that Bethany was alone, a modicum of fear began creeping up her spine. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to marry a man simply because the Stewart family had asked her to? It was one thing to talk about it while sitting in New York, over a thousand miles away from the Young Ranch and days away from being wed. But now that she stood here, in the house and they’d already called for the justice of the peace, things were getting all too real. Much too real. She washed her face in the basin provided and changed out of her traveling dress into the pale purple and white dress that Claudia and her mother had said looked beautiful enough for a wedding. It had a high lace collar and buttons down the back. When Galena returned, Bethany asked her to help with the buttons.
