A Highwayman's Mail Order Bride

by Blythe Carver

  Mark sat back, his head against the window frame. “You’re telling me the whole truth, as it occurred?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mark,” he corrected with a slight smile. “It’s still Mark. So, you saw the money you hoped to get from me as a way out of the life you’d built for yourself?”

  “That’s the long and the short of it.”

  “Yet you’d been here for a few hours—sitting right there, across the hall, sharing a drink with me—before that scoundrel showed his face here. And you never mentioned a reward. I’d intended to offer one, but you didn’t bring it up. Why is that?”

  Jed swallowed. The man had him at a loss. Why hadn’t he? That was the entire point, was it not? Collecting money so that he might see his dream come true.

  Except…

  There was another dream. One he hadn’t known his heart possessed until she came into his life. She was the dream he truly wanted, much more than a ranch or any property at all. Just her. He’d build her a castle if she wanted, but it would only matter to him so long as she was happy.

  And without her, a ranch simply would not fill the hole she’d left behind. There would no longer be a reason to work toward anything if he wasn’t working for something with her. Something they could build together.

  “I don’t know,” was all he could manage to say.

  Mark held up his glass, staring at what was left inside. “You care for her a great deal. That much is obvious.”

  “I would never stand in your way. She came out here to marry you, and you spent the money to bring her here. She deserves a decent man such as yourself, and I’m sure she would make you a good wife.”

  “Yes. But would she want to?” He looked at Jed. “You didn’t deny caring for her.”

  “No. Why should I? You’ve seen it for yourself. Lying would be foolish.”

  “I appreciate your candor.” Mark put the glass aside, stood up. “Though I’m sorry to say you’ve put me in an awkward spot. Because it would appear that the lady cares for you, as well. I thought I saw it in her face back in town, when I met you. She had a sort of shining look whenever she looked at you. I can’t explain it well,” he muttered, turning away to look out the window.

  “As I said, that doesn’t matter. You brought her here.”

  “No. You brought her here, and I understand why you did and why she behaved as she did. How she never killed him herself is beyond me. Surely, she had to protect the child. She was more than likely right when she said he might have killed the babe before it was born.”

  Jed wished it were possible for a man to die more than once, for he would’ve relished taking a turn with John Carter.

  “I assume she told you of him before you arrived, then?”

  “She did,” Jed replied, “though I feel she may not have been quite candid enough.”

  “Well, these aren’t things people enjoy describing,” Mark murmured. He clasped his hands behind his back, his shoulders rising as he drew in a deep breath. “I’ve come to a decision.”

  Jed’s heart all but stopped completely.

  “If you vow to go straight, that you will never again engage in the sort of activity that brought you here, I’d be glad to have you join my ranch as a hand. I’ll be needing a new foreman, but I’d have to give you a trial, first.”

  Jed lowered the glass onto a side table for fear of dropping it. “You don’t mean it.”

  “I always mean what I say. Do you want the lady?”

  “I do.”

  “And I want her to have a decent life. She deserves that, as does her child. If you’ll care for and provide for both of them, and keep that vow you just made to me, I see no reason why you can’t put everything you’ve learned about ranching into practice here.”

  Jed was speechless.

  Mark turned to him. “What do you say?”

  “I’d say you have a deal.” The two men clasped hands, smiling over their agreement.

  23

  No matter how long she stayed in bed, eyes closed, there was no forgetting what she’d seen.

  John. Dead on the floor.

  He was gone. He could hurt her no longer. Her scalp stung as one final reminder of the pain he’d caused—that and the bruise along the side of her face.

  Doctor Perkins was a kind man, sweet and patient, and his examination had calmed her fears. “You appear to be just fine,” he’d assured her with a warm smile. “You’re a strong young woman, and healthy. If your baby made it through the ride you took to get here, it’ll make it through anything.”

  She’d almost forgotten how everyone knew her business. She supposed as the wife of the most successful rancher in the state, it would be something to expect as time went on. Word traveled fast.

  “If he still wants me,” she whispered with no one but the wood-paneled walls to hear, alone again. “If he still wants me.”

  There was no telling now that all was said and done. He’d killed John to protect her, but Mark seemed the type of man who would do the same for any woman in danger. It was, in essence, the same as having killed a rabid dog, to prevent that dog causing harm to others.

  If any man could be compared to a rabid dog, it would be John Carter.

  This did not mean that Mark had any intention of marrying her. Why would he, knowing how she’d deceived him? She’d intended to lie about the baby and give it his name without his being aware.

  What sort of man could forgive that and still marry the woman in question?

  Her child would be a bastard, after all. A nameless, fatherless waif. There was no hope of her maintaining privacy in Carson City once word spread of her true identity and that of her child. She could not pretend to be someone she wasn’t, that the child’s father had been anyone but the brute he was.

  The fact that she’d had a husband at all made her a widow, which at least was respectable and might mean a respectable life for her child.

  But she’d lied about that husband. She’d come to Nevada in hopes of marrying a second man—no matter the sort of man he was or her reasons for doing it, she’d committed a terrible sin by lying, and her child would carry the mark of that sin.

  She’d ruined everything for both of them, when all she’d wanted was a fresh start.

  Tears streamed down the sides of her face, soaking into her hair and the feather pillow behind her head. There was no way out now. John might be dead, but he’d managed to destroy her chance at security and happiness just the same. Why couldn’t he have let her go? Why couldn’t he have gotten himself shot back in Boston?

  He didn’t even have the decency to do that much.

  There was a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Mark asked.

  “Of course.” She wiped her eyes before pushing herself up to a sitting position.

  “Please, don’t feel as though you need to sit up on my account,” he implored her as he entered. “I just spoke with the doctor, and he told me you’re looking fine. I’m greatly relieved.”

  “As am I,” she breathed, and they both chuckled.

  He lingered near the door. “I believe we have a few things to discuss. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  She’d been waiting for this. The man was due the chance to tell her off for being nothing but a liar, the sort of low woman who would use an innocent man as she’d planned to do to him.

  Whatever he said, whatever he threatened, it was no less than what she deserved.

  “Yes. We ought to talk.” She folded her hands in her lap, steeling herself for what was to come.

  “You don’t need to look so scared,” he smiled.

  “Do I look afraid?”

  “Like you’re trying not to be, yes.” He nodded to the bed, a question in his raised brows, and she motioned for him to join her. He perched himself at the foot of the soft mattress, far enough away to remain respectful.

  Oh, the entire plan had been a mistake from the start.

  He cleared his throat. “You were untruthful, and you took the
tickets I provided under false pretenses.” His voice was gentle but not entirely forgiving.

  Still, it was better than she’d expected. “Yes. I did.”

  He heaved a deep sigh. “I understand why you did, naturally. I might easily have done the same in your position. I do wish it hadn’t been me you chose to deceive.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am. You are a good man. You deserve better.”

  “Thank you for saying that.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You also went along with Jed’s deception, which bothers me more. You could’ve told me the truth about him when you got here. Defending him didn’t make you seem more… I don’t know, legitimate. Why did you lie about him?”

  She swallowed and wished there was water nearby. It would provide a way to stall, too.

  Why had she lied? When it put it that way, the story she presented about Jed was beyond understanding. He’d seen the way John treated her with his own eyes and might forgive her desperation to escape that tyranny, but Jed?

  That was far less forgivable.

  “I… I don’t know… He was kind to me…”

  “Kidnapping is kindness? I was unaware.”

  She stared at the delicate lace sewn onto the bedspread. “After that. He was kind to me. He wasn’t like the others, the ones who helped him with the robbery. He wanted to quit robbing, and the money would help him do that.”

  “But why did you care whether he quit robbing people? What did it matter to you? You understand, don’t you, how strange this seems?”

  “I do, and I wish I could understand it myself,” she groaned, her misery growing.

  “Melissa. Look at me, please.”

  It took a moment for her to screw up the courage to lift her eyes from the bedspread and find his. When she did, she found a hint of humor twinkling there.

  “I know why you did it, and I think you do, too.” He got up, walked to the head of the bed. “I want to tell you this; I release you from our engagement.”

  Her heart sank like a pebble tossed into a stream. “I knew you would. I just never thought you would be this kind about it.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, well, I suppose I’m in a kind mood today. You were in an awful spot, and you did what you felt you had to do. I’m only sorry you had to go to such lengths. Knowing what I do now, I can’t possibly marry you.”

  “You’re an upstanding man with a good reputation. You could never make me your wife after what I’ve done. I respect that.”

  He tilted his head. “Oh, this has nothing to do with my reputation. The fact is, if you were free to be my wife, I would take you in a minute.”

  She leaned away, this admission the last thing she’d expected. “You mean it?”

  “Wholeheartedly. I would call this a rocky start but would gladly accept you as my wife. You would make a good one, I suspect, given the opportunity. And I would see to it that you had that opportunity. I’m sure we could have made a happy life together. Perhaps we might even have come to care a great deal for each other. I would’ve done my damnedest to make it so, at least.”

  “What—might I ask what’s stopping you?”

  He laughed. “You look almost outraged.”

  “Perhaps not outraged but confused. Wondering why I am not good enough to marry.”

  “As I said, I would if you were free to be my wife. But you aren’t.”

  She gulped. “Please don’t tell me John is still alive.”

  “Hardly,” was his dry reply. “I wasn’t referring to that pitiful creature.”

  “To what did you refer?”

  He was infuriating, the way he danced around a subject rather than getting to the heart of the matter.

  His response made things no clearer.

  He backed away from the bed. “I suspect you’ll understand if you give it a bit more thought. When you’re feeling up to it, there’s somebody downstairs who needs a word with you.”

  She opened her mouth to ask just what he was getting at, but he’d already left the room. He might have saved her life and forgiven her, but he wore on her nerves more than a little.

  There was nothing to do but go downstairs and see what he meant. Passing by the looking glass over the wash basin was unpleasant—her cheek was turning a deep shade of purple. John always could swing hard.

  She closed her eyes. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. The idea was foreign enough to sound ridiculous, but she had to keep reminding herself until it sank in. He could never hurt her again—and so he deserved no more of her thoughts.

  When the baby was born, well, that was another story. The child would always be his. Oh, if only she bore a little girl who favored her mother in coloring.

  “I will love you, no matter what,” she whispered, hands on her belly. The thought that seeing John and being attacked by him might have brought harm to the baby—she’d heard of women losing pregnancies over much less—had brought home, really and truly, what the child meant to her.

  The world. Nothing less.

  Downstairs was silent, at least in the front of the house. The study was empty, free of the dead body which had lain there when Melissa climbed the stairs. The doctor had taken him away. There wasn’t even any blood on the floor.

  Even so, she had no wish to spend more time in that room.

  She turned, finding the door to the drawing room open, and crossed the hall to step inside. It was a beautiful room, the wallpaper printed with rows of flowers, the curtains white and gauzy, billowing in the breeze.

  She might have entertained guests in this room. Played cards with the ladies at the round table in one corner. Learned to play the shining piano in another corner. Learned the art of conversation and used it while seated around the fire after a long, enjoyable supper.

  In front of the fireplace, with its intricate mantle, stood Jed.

  “How are you holdin’ up?” he asked, his eyes immediately going to her bruised cheek. His jaw tightened.

  “Better than I look. Truly.”

  “Here. Sit down.” He gestured to one of the padded chairs nearest the hearth, stepping back when she obliged.

  “Mark said somebody down here wanted to speak with me. Was it you?”

  He nodded, his hands flexing and relaxing. When he caught her looking at them, he grinned. “My hat’s upstairs.” Yes, he did have a habit of playing with his hat when there was something difficult to say.

  “Just come out with it, then. You know you can talk to me. I’ll listen.”

  He sighed. “This isn’t like anything else I’d said before. In fact, I’ve never spoken these words up until now. Not to anybody. Ever.”

  She frowned. “What is it? Mark isn’t pressing charges against you for kidnapping me, is he?”

  He burst out laughing. “Is that what you think this is about? No, the man’s the most understanding, generous fella who ever existed. Until meeting him, I couldn’t say I was ever embarrassed by another man’s generosity, but here we are. We talked about things over a drink and came to an agreement.”

  “What’s that?”

  A shy smile crept across his lips. “He’s going to give me a chance to be his overseer.” The throb of hope in his voice told her he didn’t quite believe it yet himself.

  It was the second time that day that she’d been struck dumb by something completely unexpected. Words would not form when she moved her mouth.

  Jed crouched before her. “Are you all right? You look distressed.”

  “I—I’m surprised!” She beamed. “If this is what you want, I’m so glad for you! But how did you come about discussing it? And I thought you wanted to buy land for yourself!”

  “One thing at a time,” he chuckled. “First, it is what I want. Second, we had already talked about ranching and my experience with it before… that.” He gestured toward the study, meaning John’s appearance and death, which had taken the day and sent it hurtling in another direction. “Third. That part isn’t so easy to explain.”

  “Try.”

  “So dem
anding,” he whispered with a hint of a smile. “I wanted land of my own, it’s true. That was the reason I got myself into this whole mess in the first place. I saw you, heard your name—what the men on the coach thought was your name—and put it all together. I would use you to get money from somebody I knew ran a big ranch.”

  “I know all of this already.”

  He went on as though she hadn’t said a word. “But here’s the surprising thing; that isn’t what I want anymore.”

  “You mean you’re just going to give up on your dream?” For some reason, the idea crushed her. “Oh, Jed. I wanted it so much for you, too.”

  “You did?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. If you’re happy, I’m happy for you. I’m glad you’ll be able to settle down now. I just wish it had been the way you hoped.”

  His shoulders lifted. “Sometimes, we hope for something because we don’t know there’s anything better out there—and if we know about it, we sure as hell don’t think it’s meant for us.”

  “What does that mean?” And why was he looking so deeply into her eyes? Why was he taking her hand? She hardly minded. In fact, she adored every second of it, but that didn’t mean it made the first bit of sense.

  He drew a deep breath. “Melissa, I want you. You’re the dream I want to see come true now. A life with you. If that means promising I’ll go straight and working as another man’s foreman, that’s what I’ll do. Because it means I’ll be able to take care of you and our family. If that’s what you want, too.”

  She forgot how to breathe. The muscles of her face went slack as she tried to understand what he said over the blissful, ecstatic screaming in her head.

  “Melissa?” Oh, the hope in his eyes. The sort of hope she had always wanted to see in a man’s eyes, but especially in his.

  It was as if she stepped outside herself and was watching over her own shoulder. Her hands in his, resting on her lap. His tense, anxious pose, every muscle tightened as he knelt in front of her. The hardening of his jaw when she didn’t answer.