“I brought you here to teach you a lesson,” Harold said, grinning again. “I don’t like women that talk back. A girl like you has no business coming into town with that attitude. I’m going to set you straight.”
Jane’s heart was racing, but she was determined now more than ever not to let her weakness show.
“You came to Silver City looking for a husband, didn’t you?” Harold demanded.
Jane took a deep breath but she didn’t answer, and that made Harold furious.
He stooped down toward her, pressing his face inches from her, and screamed again, “I said, you came here looking for a husband, did you not?”
She could smell the sour whiskey on his breath and it made her stomach spin. In that instant, she felt the smallest she ever had in her entire life. “Yes,” she said, unable to hide the shaking in her voice.
“Good,” Harold grinned. “Then you’ve found one. You’re gonna marry me.”
Jane couldn’t stop her eyes from going wide with shock and horror. She couldn’t marry Harold! She couldn’t!
“You’ll like me better than my brother, anyway,” Harold continued. “You shouldn’t be mixing with an Indian. And who wants a man with one leg? I’m a real man… I’m twice the man he is…”
Harold was visibly drunk, and the more he spoke, the more his words began to slur together. Jane gulped, looking frantically around the shed, trying to plot her escape. If only she could get that sickle. If only she could…
Harold’s liquored eyes followed her gaze and landed on the sickle, then his face flashed with glee as he glanced between the sharp, dust-covered blade and the quivering woman.
“You like that?” he asked menacingly, reaching for the sickle and taking it in his hand. The blade glinted in the streaks of white light streaming into the shack, and Harold slowly moved the instrument closer to Jane. He made sharp slashing motions in the air, laughing as Jane shrunk back against the chair.
Her heart was rattling impossibly fast now, and she couldn’t restrain the fear that was taking over her body. She could no longer pretend that she wasn’t afraid.
“What were you going to do with this?” Harold taunted again, swooping the blade in front of Jane’s face. “Were you going to try to fight back? You silly little girl… You really are hopeless… Did you really think you were any match for me? You’re just a woman…”
Suddenly the door to the shack swung open, and Jane and Harold both turned in shock to see the intruder. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the sudden influx of bright white light, but when they saw the figure emerging, they both knew at once exactly who it was. They could tell by the silhouette of the cane, by the missing leg.
“Wyatt!” Jane cried out. She had never been as grateful to see someone in her entire life as she was that very instant that she laid eyes on Wyatt.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Harold whooped, laughing in amusement at his brother.
“I should ask you the same question,” Wyatt said. “What business do you have, holding my bride captive in this place? Wielding a weapon in her face?”
“You mean this?” Harold laughed, holding up the sickle. Then he flung it onto the floor, and the blade struck the dusty wooden boards with an ominous, metallic clatter. “We were just playing a game.” Harold smiled. “Weren’t we?” He turned to Jane, narrowing his dark eyes. “Tell him… it was just a game.”
“You disgust me,” Jane growled, glaring up at Harold.
“Never speak to me that way again,” Harold screamed, kicking the leg of Jane’s chair in rage. The impact sent the chair tumbling over, and Jane screamed out as she felt herself falling toward the ground with no means of stopping the movement.
“Don’t you dare lay hands on her!” Wyatt growled back. Jane couldn’t see the confrontation from where she landed on the ground, but she could certainly hear it. She heard the sound of fists colliding with flesh, the sound of feet scuffling over the floor, the sound of both men grunting with effort as they attacked each other.
And then Jane saw the sickle, inches away on the floor, and she got an idea.
She had fallen onto her side and was still attached, by rope, to the chair, but her new position allowed her to crawl across the floor, using her arm to leverage herself closer and closer to the sickle.
Come on… she willed herself, wincing against the weight of the chair holding her back. Just a little closer…
A pair of boots stomped near her face, and she narrowly dodged them by angling her body away. Harold was seemingly oblivious to her, and that was a good thing… that meant that he didn’t see her reach the sickle, he didn’t see her line the blade up against the rope that bound her hands, and he didn’t see her carefully rub the binds against the blade until the rope split, liberating her.
Once she had slipped her hands free from the binds, she rolled away from the chair and grabbed the sickle in her hand. Then she stood up, just in time to see Harold’s back hurtling toward her.
As if by instinct, her body responded. She drew up the blade, wrapping her arm around the backside of Harold and swinging her wrist back around, so the curved side of the sickle wrested just over Harold’s neck. The man’s anger instantly diffused, and his rage was replaced by quivers of fear.
“What’s that you said about me just being a woman?” Jane snarled, holding him steady in her grip.
“I’m so-so-sor-sorry,” Harold stammered, his chest convulsing with heaves. “Plea-please, let me g-g-go…”
Jane’s eyes flicked up and she saw Wyatt. He had been injured in the scuffle—he had a bruised eye, and a stream of blood fell from his nose—but he was still standing, supporting himself entirely on one leg.
“I’ve got it from here,” Wyatt nodded at Jane, and she felt a sudden rush of confidence—he had protected her.
She released her grip on Harold and he stumbled forward, almost directly into Wyatt’s arms. Wyatt caught him by the crook of his shoulder, then he flung him out of the shed.
Wyatt grabbed his cane and followed, heading out. Jane took a deep breath, then dropped the sickle and followed after them.
When she stepped out of the shed, she noticed at once that her suspicions had been correct. They were indeed on a ranch, and based on the barrenness of their surroundings, they were in the middle of nowhere.
But they weren’t alone.
“Harold Larson, you are under arrest for kidnapping and attempted misconduct against a woman,” a sheriff was saying, binding Harold’s hands behind his back.
“He’ll never see the light of day again,” Wyatt said, glancing at Jane. “You’re safe now.”
“Thanks to you,” Jane said, smiling up at him. “I’m safe, thanks to you.”
She reached out and took his hand, closing the distance between them. Neither of them had to speak… neither of them had to say a word. In that moment, they both knew that they had found their forever.
EPILOGUE
After that fateful day at the old Larson ranch, Wyatt Larson became something of a town hero. His brave actions became legend around Silver City, and nearly everyone boasted of how he had heroically rescued his beautiful damsel in distress.
Of course the most impressed citizen of all was none other than Jane Brooks herself. Her newfound admiration for Wyatt was so great that she immediately fell into his arms. That very day he asked her to be his bride, and she readily accepted. He had protected her in a way that nobody else had before, he made her feel a kind of safety that she had never felt. And she couldn’t wait to be his bride.
The story of Wyatt Larson and Jane Brooks became the greatest love story that Silver City had ever heard, and overnight the couple was immediately embraced by the townspeople. That was the reason why, a few weeks later, their wedding would be the most well attended celebration in Silver City’s history.
The town mayor himself graced them with his presence, and to offer his congratulations to the newlyweds, he extended a key to the city. The symbolic
gesture was echoed on the faces and congratulatory words of the congregation, and Wyatt knew that his life in Silver City would never be the same. He was no longer the outside. Rather, he was the hero.
Sales at the general store blossomed overnight, and in a few months’ time, there was enough money to expand the storefront and open a new restaurant. The initiative was Jane’s pride and joy, her way of introducing authentic, home-cooked Polish meals to the people of Silver City. Having been accustomed to a bland diet, the new food was well received, and the restaurant became Silver City’s most popular establishment.
Of course, the restaurant wasn’t Jane’s only pursuit. It was nearly one year to the day of their wedding anniversary that Jane delivered her proudest achievement of all: a baby boy.
Benjamin Andrew Larson, named after Wyatt’s late father. Their new son became Wyatt’s pride and joy, and Jane knew that it was only a matter of time before they had an entire house full of babies.
But for now, she was happy having her hands full with her two loves: Wyatt and Benjamin. Her heart had never felt happier, and her future had never looked so bright…
And they lived happily ever after.
THE END
13. THE BARGAIN FOR BRIDE
Copyright © Hope Sinclair 2018
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
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Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ONE
“Oh, Emily,” Mrs. Wallace admonished, bowing her head and shaking it from side to side. She circled her daughter and examined every inch of her form.
“Why on earth are you wearing that?” the older woman pressed on. “I wanted you to wear the new dress I got you. I set it out on your bed.”
“I don’t want to wear that dress, Mother,” Emily replied, standing firm. It’s rather frilly—and rather tight. It hugs my body too closely. I don’t think I’d even be able to sit in it.”
“Ha!” Mrs. Wallace laughed. “Sitting shouldn’t be your concern. Where we’re going, you’ll want to stand… And, you’ll want to make sure you put your best foot forward, so to speak. I know the dress is tight. It’s supposed to be, so that potential suitors can see the shapeliness of your figure.”
“Mother!” Emily gasped, blushing and turning her head. “I shouldn’t have to put my body on display to please any man.”
“Well, you certainly aren’t going to win them over with your disposition or behavior,” Mr. Wallace added, walking into the room. He was wearing an expensive, but ill-fitted suit that looked rather awkward on him. “So, you might as so whatever it takes to catch their eyes… Now, go put on that dress your mother bought you, so that we can be on our way.”
Emily looked at her parents, ready to retort. But, the expressions on their faces made it clear that they were not going to cave on this point.
“Very well,” Emily sighed, turning to leave the room. She went back to her quarters and removed the modest tunic-like dress she was wearing, replacing it with the much fancier, frillier, tighter garment her mother had purchased for her.
A few minutes later, Emily returned to her parents, who were waiting by the door, ready to leave.
The family left the house and loaded themselves onto their carriage. As Emily slid into her seat, she realized that, yes, indeed, her dress made sitting very uncomfortable. But, as uncomfortable as she felt at that moment, she knew that it was nothing compared to the discomfort she’d feel when they arrived at their destination.
“Here we are,” Mr. Wallace smiled nearly an hour later, when the trio arrived outside of a very modern, posh mansion in the city.
“Perk up, girl,” Mrs. Wallace instructed, moving closer to her 22-year-old daughter. “We’re about to hobnob with some of New York’s finest.” She reached out and pinched both of Emily’s cheeks, then slapped them briskly, given them a vibrant red hue.
Mr. Wallace steered his horses to the posting fence of the mansion. He got out of the carriage and moved to the front of it, to secure his horses, then stood and waited, impatiently, for his wife and daughter to get off of the carriage and join him.
A few minutes earlier, several other guests had arrived, and were making their way toward the door. Catching glimpse of the Wallace family, one of those other guests snickered and whispered something to her companion.
“Look at that,” the plump older woman said to the much thinner, taller man beside her. “That oaf doesn’t even have the courteous to help his womenfolk down from the carriage… I tell you, with them in the mix, our ‘high society’ has fallen.”
Emily saw the couple watching her family. She couldn’t hear what was said. But, given her experience, she was fairly certain it was something judgmental, insulting, or otherwise negative.
You see, Emily’s family was what most people considered “new money.” Her father had received a substantial inheritance from his grandfather just over two years ago. Before that time, they’d been “dirt poor,” by all measures. And since that time, they—or, rather, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace—had become ostentatious and power-hungry, and they were often scoffed at for their lack of manners, flamboyance, and relentless social climbing.
But, no matter. Mr. and Mrs. Wallace had had a taste of the good life, and they wanted more—much, much more. And, by golly, they believed they’d found the perfect way to get it.
“Be on your toes, Emily,” Mrs. Wallace advised. “Your father had to pull a lot of strings to get us invited to this party. We weren’t on the original guest list, you know. But, given who else is, your father had to resort to other measures. He made a sizeable donation to the children’s hospital where Mrs. Latimer volunteers. And, as a result, they felt compelled to invite us.”
Mrs. Wallace placed her hand behind Emily, on the small of her back and pressed gently, forcing Emily to straighten her back. “So, don’t mess things up tonight,” Mrs. Wallace added, pressing harder, so that Emily’s chest stuck out further. “I’d hate to see the money your father donated go to waste.”
Emily cringed at what her mother’s words. But, nonetheless, she held her head high as she entered the party—and, she continued to hold it high as she and her parents walked through the crowd and passed several people who, in turn, whispered gossip about them.
“Ah, there he is,” Mrs. Wallace whispered to Emily. “Over there, by the punch bowl—that’s Leonard Latimer.”
Leonard Latimer was the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Latimer. And, Henry Latimer was one of the wealthiest men in New York, who hailed from one of New York’s richest, most longstanding families.
“Go introduce yourself to him,” Mrs. Wallace went on. “Welcome him back, and thank him for his service.”
Leonard Latimer had just returned from the war. He’d served as a soldier, but had done so in name only. Leonard’s post was an administrative one, where he worked in a communications tent far-removed from the battlefields. This party was for him, to celebrate his safe return and introduce him back into society.
That’s why Mr. Wallace made his big donation to secure his family a spot on the guest list. As it turned out, in addition to being the heir to a fortune and a veteran, Leonard Latimer was also single. He was unmarried, or, as some would say, “available”—a
nd Mr. and Mrs. Wallace saw him as an opportunity for them to further climb New York’s social ladder. They wanted him and Emily to become “involved,” and have Emily marry into his family. And, if, for some reason, Emily wasn’t able to woo Leonard into courting, there were plenty of other unmarried men at the party who might take interest in Emily and, ultimately, expand her parents’ social—and financial—status.
But, as soon as Emily did as her mother had told her, there was no need to worry about any of these other men. The moment Leonard Latimer saw Emily approaching, his eyes lit up, and a broad smile flashed across his scrawny face.
“I’m Emily Wallace,” Emily said, holding out her hand. “We’ve never met before. But, I’d like to welcome you back to New York, and thank you for your efforts during the war.”
Leonard took Emily’s hand into his, then lowered his head and kissed it. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Wallace,” he said softly, gazing up at her adoringly.
Mrs. Wallace watched from across the room. She felt a great sense of contentment observing her daughter’s exchange with Leonard. She was deeply satisfied that he’d taken her bait.
TWO
Emily burst into the house, drenched from head to toe. She’d just traveled a long way in the rain. But, the wetness on her face hadn’t come from the sky.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Mrs. Wallace shouted, alarmed, from her chair. She’d been sitting in the living room, drinking cordial from a tin coffee mug, while her husband was off gallivanting with some of his cohorts.
“What are you doing home so early?” Mrs. Wallace added. She’d expected to have the house to herself for most of the evening, and wasn’t pleased that had daughter had returned home unexpectedly.
“Leave me alone, Mother!” Emily hollered. Though she always stood up for herself when she had to, it wasn’t like Emily to yell at, or so harshly interact with, her mother. So, when Emily spoke to her way, Mrs. Wallace figured there had to be some good reason.
New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set Page 55
