Prisoners of Love Books 1-3: Adelaide Cinnamon Becky

by Callie Hutton

  A bit more on the slender side than he preferred, nevertheless, she was pretty and had a nice smile. Until he offered to marry her, then her smile turned to a frown.

  When the marshal had visited with the group, he’d said the women were in jail for minor crimes and he needed them out of his hair. Easton agreed to hold the group over for one more day to wait for the women to join them. If they were to be mail order brides, Miles wanted to make sure he got one right away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s actually wrong.” The marshal scratched his day-old beard. “But I think the young lady here might have something to say about it.”

  “Well, miss?” Miles turned to the girl who stared at him, her mouth forming a perfect circle. Now that he’d gotten the words out, he took a closer look at her and felt a tightening in his lower parts, which confused him. Eve’s death three months ago, and his added responsibilities as the sole parent of his daughters had killed any desire he’d felt for a woman. Not that he’d been so madly in love with his wife. His parents had pushed him to marry her, and while their marriage had been satisfactory, it certainly hadn’t been a great love match.

  Shortly after the last clump of dirt had fallen on her grave, his parental duties had consumed him, leaving little chance to think of his own needs.

  “I thought we were to travel to Santa Fe first, and become mail order brides when we got there?” The young lady chewed her lip and cast an anxious glance at the marshal.

  The marshal shrugged. “Don’t make no difference to me. You can marry up with this here fellow right now, and be done with it.”

  The woman backed up a step and shook her head, the blonde curls that had escaped her bun bobbing against her face. “I don’t know.”

  He didn’t want to terrify the poor girl. She looked as if she was about to bolt out the back door. “Look, miss. Pardon, what is your name?”

  “Mrs. Adelaide Markham.”

  “Widow?”

  She nodded.

  “My name is Miles Ryan.” He hesitated for a moment, and then stuck his hand out. She stared at it for a moment then gingerly took it.

  “Why don’t we walk over to the hotel and get a cup of coffee? Or breakfast? Have you eaten yet?”

  Adelaide shook her head. He extended his arm, waiting patiently as she examined his limb as if she expected it to jump up and bite her. Finally, she took his arm and they left the jail house. He maneuvered her toward the hotel he’d passed on his hurried ride into town. He was desperate to get this woman away from the suspicious looks the marshal threw him. Desperation fit his situation perfectly. He had to get Mrs. Markham’s consent to marry him.

  And fast.

  A few diners shoveled food into their mouths, but the hotel dining room was almost empty. Those partaking of breakfast sat bleary-eyed, focused entirely on their plate. It appeared most of the living in Dodge City went on in the evenings. Earlier, he’d caught a few poker games still in progress as he’d passed several saloons. Atop his horse, he easily saw over the batwing doors to view the scruffy appearance of the players, leaving no doubt that they’d been sitting at the tables all night.

  This town was certainly not the place for a lady, and certainly not the one sitting across from him casting uneasy glances at the front door. Perhaps he was rushing her, but he only had a few hours to secure a wife. Even though she’d been in jail, he didn’t think Mrs. Markham would be a threat to his girls.

  His girls. The reason he had to convince her that she needn’t wait until she arrived in Santa Fe to find a husband. He was more than willing to marry her now, and provide her with a respectable home when they arrived at the end of their journey. All he asked was that she take his daughters in hand.

  The drive from Independence to Fort Dodge had been brutal. His polite, charming little girls had turned intro hellions. The death of their mother had affected them all, but uprooting them so soon might have done them more harm than good. Eve had always been the one to deal with the girls. He’d spent their time in Macon Ridge upholding the law and keeping the peace. It had been a job requiring long hours, and at times trips out of town.

  He’d arrive home in the evening after wrestling with criminals to a well ordered house, two shiny-faced little girls sitting demurely at the supper table in starched pinafores, and the smell of something delicious wafting in the air.

  Once Eve had died, his world had fallen apart. After he’d run out of volunteers from the church to help out, he used paid women to wash their clothes, tend to the girls, and cook the occasional meal. Little did he know while he was trying to keep life together his daughters were raising hell and turning into miniature termagants.

  He gave his companion a warm smile. “Tell me about yourself.”

  Adelaide hesitated, then shrugged. “There isn’t a lot to tell. I was married and had a little girl.”

  His breath caught at the pain in her words. “What happened?”

  “Gerald contracted influenza. Within days Mary had caught it, too. They both died the same day.”

  A chill ran down his spine, thinking of his little girls, and how devastated he would be if one of them died. This poor woman’s grief was etched on her face, and he felt an unexpected need to pull her into his arms and comfort her. “I’m very sorry.”

  She blinked rapidly. “Thank you.”

  An awkward silence followed before a man behind the counter shouted at them. “What do y’all want?”

  Miles looked at Mrs. Markham. “What would you like?”

  “Just coffee is fine.”

  If ever there was a woman in need of sustenance, it was this one. Even though they’d only just met, he knew those prominent cheekbones and the slenderness of her body were not normal for her. “What if we both have a bowl of oatmeal? Do you like oatmeal?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a wistful smile, her blue eyes meeting his for the first time since they’d entered the dining room. Again his breath caught at the depth of their color. What the hell was wrong with him? He was thinking like some love-sick youth. This was a business proposition. He would offer her a home, protection, and security, and in turn she would see to his comfort, and take care of the girls. Nothing more.

  He shook himself from his reverie and addressed the cook. “The lady and I will both have coffee and oatmeal.”

  The man grunted, turned, and grabbed two bowls from the shelf above him. “Come get them,” he called over his shoulder.

  Adelaide moved to get up. “I’ll get it.”

  “No. You sit. I’ll get it.” He was up in a flash and brought her coffee and oatmeal first, then returned for his.

  They ate in silence until Miles couldn’t stand it anymore. “Why were you in jail?”

  She placed her spoon alongside her bowl, her eyes downcast. “After Gerald died, I came to Dodge City looking for work. I was hired by a local restaurant, but with no experience, I kept mixing up orders, so I was fired.”

  “And?”

  “I was living in an empty building until I could find more work. The owner had me arrested for trespassing.”

  There was more to that tale he was sure, but whatever the full story was, no doubt this timid woman was on the receiving end of ugliness. For now he’d leave it alone. Time was running out and he needed to convince her to marry him. Now.

  “I’m sure this seems sudden to you, but I do want a wife as I continue with the wagon train. Taking care of everything myself has been difficult, and when I arrive in Santa Fe I won’t have time to court a woman.”

  Lord, could there have ever been a proposal worse than this one?

  He was slightly troubled at leaving off about his girls. Having lost a daughter, she might turn him down for that reason alone. But as a mother of a little girl, she would know what to do right from the start.

  He supposed he could check with the marshal and marry up with one of the other women, but for some odd reason he felt a connection with this one. Not that he wanted a connection, he assured himself. H
e’d seen what loving a woman to distraction had done to his father.

  Adelaide fiddled with her spoon, again not meeting his gaze. “What’s waiting for you in Santa Fe?”

  “I’m sorry, I should have told you about myself since I’m trying to convince you to marry me. I was the sheriff of Macon Ridge, a small town in Missouri, for the past five years. In the past year, my parents have been writing, asking me to come home to Santa Fe and take over their farm. They’re getting older, and were needing to depend more and more on hired help, which they can’t afford.”

  “Are there no other sons to help out?”

  “No. My brother was killed in the War of Succession. Ran off one night when he was only sixteen. Left a note behind. I never could figure out why the fool joined up since we had no stake in the battle.”

  She frowned. “Wouldn’t New Mexico territory have been Confederate?”

  “Actually, both sides claimed ownership and territorial rights, but my parents and I never felt the need to join the skirmish. Unfortunately, my brother, along with several of his friends, hadn’t agreed.”

  Surprised by her question, he was pleased to hear his future wife raise an intelligent point. And he was determined that this pretty woman with the beautiful blue eyes—if she would stop staring at her lap and allow him to see them once in a while—would be his. If only he had more time to actually court her. But if he didn’t show up with a wife by this evening, Easton threatened to ban him and his wagon from the group. It seemed two little girls with the Ryan name had been creating havoc among the other travelers. Any guilt he felt about not mentioning his two daughters was shoved aside by desperation.

  “I don’t understand your hurry to marry. Since we’ll be traveling on the same wagon train, couldn’t we get to know each other a little bit better along the way?”

  A reasonable question, and one he needed to dodge for now. How much could he tell her without revealing the whole story? When he’d left the wagon train, Miles had asked Mrs. Schulze, a heavy-set German woman to look after the girls.

  Then he had mounted his horse and rode straight for the marshal’s office, determined to return with a wife. After a short time with Mrs. Adelaide Markham, he was convinced she was the wife he intended to return with.

  “There are several reasons.”

  Adelaide leaned forward, her eyes questioning. “Yes.”

  “I need help along the way, and you and I couldn’t spend too much time together without benefit of marriage or the ladies on the wagon train would rise up.”

  Like they did when Beth Ann let the Ranforths’ pigs loose and we all spent more than an hour chasing them down.

  “You’re a pretty woman, Mrs. Markham. There are several men with the group who are also looking for wives.” He leaned forward and gave her what he hoped was an engaging smile. “I saw you first.”

  And when you hear that Lizzie dumped a bucket of water over Mrs. Crenshaw’s head when she was leaning over the creek washing clothes, you will run into the arms of any other man on the wagon train.

  “And, lastly, isn’t the reason for your trip to marry? From want I understand, the marshal has given you ladies a choice of jail or marriage.” He hurried on when she scowled. “Not that I think he had the right to do that.”

  Adelaide sniffed. “No, he did not.”

  Miles reached across the table and took her hand. “I have all my teeth, I bathe regularly, and I’m fairly easy to get along with. I’m a hard worker, and you will never want for anything—within reason.

  “Will you accept my offer, Mrs. Markham, and marry me?”

  2

  Adelaide stared at Miles Ryan across the table. She could certainly do worse than this man. In addition to all his teeth, he also had a solid build, a handsome face, and the slow confident gait of a lawman—or gunfighter. His muscles stretched the seams of his chambray shirt, and his large hand dwarfed hers as he spoke.

  She sensed security and protection in him. And, yes, if she passed on his offer, there would just be another man down the road whom she would have to marry. The marshal made it clear he would notify the law in Santa Fe if they didn’t hold to their part of the bargain.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “Yes, Mr. Ryan, I will accept your offer.”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand. Before he could shout ‘hallelujah’, she hurried on. “But I do have a request. Well, actually, more of a requirement.”

  Still smiling, he said, “And that would be?”

  She was struck by the gleam in his eyes as he regarded her. Suddenly her mouth dried up, her hand warm where he grasped it. His index finger rubbed circles on her inner wrist, making her more certain that she needed to get this said. “I prefer to spend some time getting to know you before we, um, you know . . .”

  The slight confusion on his face cleared as he continued to stare at her, the heat growing in her cheeks. “Yes. I do believe I understand what you mean.” He drew out his words and his lips twitched. “I will abide by your wishes. Just define for me ‘some time.’”

  Still flustered at his piercing stare, she waved her hand in dismissal. “I can’t say for sure. Just when we know each other better.”

  Miles released her hand and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his powerful chest. “All right.”

  She blew out the breath of air she’d been holding. “When do you want to get married?”

  “Now.”

  She stiffened. “Right now?”

  “Yes. I’d like to round up a preacher or the justice of the peace and do it now. I need to get some supplies from the mercantile while I’m here, which will give you time to pack your things.”

  Feeling as though a whirlwind that settled on her, Adelaide nodded, pushing aside any doubts she had at what she was about to do. It was either this man, or another one. And as Mr. Ryan had pointed out, at least he had all his teeth.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.” Mr. Leonard Davis, the Justice of the Peace whose door they’d knocked on a mere fifteen minutes earlier, closed his Bible and smiled. “You may kiss the bride, Mr. Ryan.”

  Adelaide glanced sideways at her husband.

  Husband.

  Miles cupped her chin and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Thankful he didn’t make more of a show, she touched her mouth with her fingertips. A warm tingle raced through her, as if she’d touched something dangerous.

  The only witnesses were Mr. Davis’s wife and daughter. They all signed the marriage book. After passing a few bills to the Justice of the Peace, Miles led her from the man’s house, folding their marriage certificate and sliding it into his pocket.

  “If you go to the hotel and pack your things, I’ll pick you up after I rent a wagon to take us to the fort.”

  Still unsettled by this quick turn of events, Adelaide nodded and watched her new husband stride down the boardwalk, determination in every step. Although she hadn’t expected any sort of romantic display, she still felt a bit abandoned as he left her there in front of the Davis home.

  She picked up her skirts and stepped into the street, dodging piles of horse leavings. No point in feeling sorry for herself. As mama would say “just get on with it, girl.” In some ways she was grateful Mr. Ryan had wanted to marry her so quickly. The wagon train ride to Santa Fe would have been worrisome with her fretting the entire time about what would happen when she arrived in Santa Fe and had to select a husband.

  Her roommate, Miranda, the quiet woman who had admitted to murder, was gone from their room when she returned. Adelaide had left the room earlier, contemplating not going on the wagon train at all, and returned a married woman. Before she could think too much on all of that, she packed her few belongings and left the room, carrying her satchel.

  “Mrs. Markham?” The distinctive voice of Nellie halted her as Adelaide started down the stairs. The woman closed the door to her room and hurried after her. Adelaide was amazed at the transformation in the brothel owner. Gone were the low cut red satin dre
ss, the dangly earrings, and face paint.

  It surprised her to notice that Nellie Ward was a pretty woman. With her hair fastened in a neat bun, a blue and white calico dress, and black buttoned up half boots, she looked like any woman getting ready to do her daily shopping. Adelaide had to blink several times to make sure it was, indeed, Nellie.

  “Where have you been? Miranda woke me a while ago to say you’d disappeared. You had us all worried.”

  “I’m sorry. I went for a walk, and hadn’t planned on being gone so long.” She couldn’t stop staring at Nellie’s concerned deep brown eyes. Adelaide had always believed a woman who earned her money pleasuring men would look somewhat soiled. In fact the term ‘soiled dove’ seemed to fit her perception of them perfectly. Except for this woman, who could be anyone’s older sister.

  “Are you all right, dear? You look a little shaken.”

  “I’m fine. In fact I needed to see you anyway.”

  Nellie glanced down at Adelaide’s satchel and frowned. “I hope you’re not planning on running out on us. You know the marshal was adamant that you girls had to either head to Santa Fe today, or he would keep you locked up.”

  “No, no. I’m not running out.” Adelaide twisted her fingers, afraid once she blurted out what she’d done, it would all become real. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face that yet.

  Nellie put her arm around Adelaide’s shoulder and picked up her satchel. “Come on down to my room and we’ll have a little talk. You look as though you have something to say that you’re not too sure about.”

  “Married?” Nellie’s head snapped back at Adelaide’s announcement.

  They had barely closed the door when she blurted out the news. “Yes. To a man from the wagon train. A Mr. Miles Ryan.”

  “Well, girl, that was sure fast work on your part. And you say the marshal knew about this?”

  “Yes. I was in Marshal Jones’s office when Mr. Ryan came in, looking to marry up with one of us right away. Since I was standing right there, he decided he wanted me.”