The Bargain Mail Order Bride Read online




  Chance at Love Series: Book 4

  The

  Bargain

  Mail Order Bride

  Ruth Ann Nordin

  Wedded Bliss Romances, LLC

  The Bargain Mail Order Bride - Smashwords Edition

  Published by Ruth Ann Nordin at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2016 by Ruth Ann Nordin

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Photo images Period images. http://www.periodimages.com/welcome-to-periodimagescom. All rights reserved – used with permission.

  Cover and Interior Photo images Dreamstime. www.dreamstime.com. All rights reserved – used with permission.

  Wedded Bliss Romances, LLC

  http://www.ruthannnordin.com

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Other Books in the Chance At Love Series

  Chronological Order of All Books by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Dedication: To Jo-anne Crook who is super nice!

  Chapter One

  September 1878

  Colorado

  Carl Richie sat in the chair in front of the general store as he waited for the stagecoach to arrive. He checked his pocket watch and grimaced. The driver was late. The driver had been on time when Phoebe came in. The weather was just as nice as it’d been when Phoebe had arrived. So what was taking the driver so long?

  He slipped the pocket watch back into his pocket. Feeling the heat of someone’s gaze on him, he looked over at Hank and Wilber. The two stood just outside the door of the general store and stared at him.

  Unbelievable. Even after everyone found out Jerry Conner had been the one who killed Lydia, Hank and Wilber still looked at him as if he was guilty.

  “What do you want?” Carl asked, not in the mood to be polite.

  For a moment, he didn’t think they would reply, but then Hank said, “You got a lot of nerve taking another bride so soon after Lydia’s death. She was your wife. You’d think the least you could do was wait a year.”

  Carl snorted. “You’re amazing, Hank, you know that? You slept with her more than I ever did.” Lydia had even told him that Hank had been able to bring her pleasure during the act. He’s not a miserable failure in bed like you are, she’d continue with a grin that let him know she enjoyed taunting him. “She was more of a wife to you than she ever was to me,” he added.

  “Maybe if you’d been able to do the job right she wouldn’t have sought out my bed,” Hank replied with a smug grin.

  What? Lydia told Hank that? He bolted up from the chair and marched over to him. It was one thing for Lydia to voice her complaints to him. It was another matter to know she’d done that with others, too.

  Hank backed away from him, but Carl took him by the collar and forced him up against the wall. “I might not be much in bed, but I’m younger and stronger than you. I suggest you shut up.”

  “There’s no need to get violent, Carl,” Wilber said.

  “And there’s no need for you two to act like I killed my wife,” Carl snapped. “I didn’t do it. You all know this, and you’re still acting like I’m guilty.”

  “If you had done a better job of making her happy, she wouldn’t have sought out the comfort of Jerry’s arms,” Hank spat. “Then Jerry would be alive today, and his wife and children would be together.”

  Carl told himself to ignore the irritable old man, but he couldn’t help it. The more Hank talked, the angrier he got. And the angrier he got, the harder it was to back away from Hank’s taunts. “You’re honestly going to defend Jerry to my face? He tried to kill me.”

  “Only because Lydia couldn’t behave. That was your job as her husband. And you failed at that, just like you failed at everything else you’ve ever done.”

  Something in Carl snapped, and he swung at Hank. His fist landed right in Hank’s jaw. He was hoping to feel some level of satisfaction as Hank grunted and fell to the ground, but he only felt empty.

  “Stop it,” Sheriff Eric Johnson called out, hurrying over to them. “If you two got a problem, you need to deal with it like grown men. Not children in a schoolyard.”

  Carl turned to Eric. “Then you tell him to stop saying I’m to blame for everything that’s gone wrong in this town. It’s not my fault Lydia slept around, and it’s not my fault Jerry killed her. I’m sick and tired of taking the blame for things everyone else around here is doing!”

  “Fair enough,” Eric replied then turned to help Hank up. “Hank, you know those things are uncalled for. Lydia is responsible for the things she did, and Jerry is responsible for the things he did. Each person is to be held accountable for their own decisions.”

  “I still think if a man gets married, he needs to be willing to put his wife in line,” Hank said.

  “You say that like it’s easy to do,” Carl told Hank. “Well, I’m here to tell you it’s not. And what’s more, you should have kept your trousers buttoned around Lydia since she was my wife.”

  “Shh…” Eric hissed, glancing around them. “There are women and children around, and they might hear what you’re saying.”

  Carl shook his head. If they insisted on sticking around to listen to what he was saying, then they deserved what they got. He was about to point this out to Eric when he caught sight of the stagecoach coming up the side of the hill. Finally!

  “Stop bothering me, Hank,” Carl told the old man. Then he glanced at Wilber. “And you, too, Wilber. I’ve had enough of both of you.”

  Carl took a few steps away from them when Hank called out, “You think getting another wife is going to solve your problems? You couldn’t handle your first one. How do you plan to handle this one?”

  “Hank,” Eric warned, saving Carl from having to respond. “Did you not hear what I just told you? Now, you and Wilber get going. I don’t want you sticking around to make more trouble.”

  Though the two men grumbled, they left. The other onlookers started to disperse as well, probably fearing Eric would turn his attention to them.

  Carl breathed a sigh of relief. He need
ed to get out of this town. And the sooner, the better.

  He closed his eyes and once more prayed there was really a lot of gold in that stream. He didn’t need to get rich. He only needed enough to get out of here and start a new life somewhere else. That was all he wanted. It was all he’d ever wanted from the moment his father brought him and his mother to this godforsaken place.

  The horses neighed, and he opened his eyes in time to see the stagecoach just a block away. He took a deep breath and straightened up. Even if this was more of a business arrangement than an actual marriage, he should make a good impression. His mother was adamant about such things, and while he’d let his good manners slip in the years since her death, he decided he’d do them now because he needed to establish a good relationship with this woman who’d come to marry him.

  The stagecoach came to a stop at the general store, and the driver looked his way. “Are you expecting a mail-order bride?”

  “Yes,” Carl replied, taking a step toward the stagecoach.

  “Mind if I ask you what your name is? After the whole fiasco with Eric Johnson, I need to play it safe.”

  Carl only heard snippets of the things that had transpired when Caroline Benton had arrived to town and everyone had assumed she was Allison Jones, but the driver was right. It was in his best interest to know the man had brought him the right woman.

  “I’m Carl Richie,” he told the driver.

  “Are you expecting Juliet Gilbert?” the driver asked.

  “Yes.”

  Carl was about to pull out the missive she’d sent him to prove it when the door opened. His gaze went to the stagecoach, and he saw three women inside. The one with her hand on the doorknob was wearing a dark green dress with a matching hat. Though her hair was pinned up, he could make out how light it was. It was such a light blonde that it almost seemed white if she turned her head in the right direction.

  He had to get a good look at her face to be reassured that she was as young as she claimed in her letter. Otherwise, he’d think she was much older. But she had a pretty face, and there wasn’t a single wrinkle on her smooth skin.

  The driver ran over to her. “Miss Gilbert, I’m the one who needs to open the door.”

  The woman blinked in surprise, and her cheeks turned pink from embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

  The other two women giggled, which seemed to make her even more uncomfortable. “She’s a little eager to be with her intended,” one of them told the driver.

  “And she’s glad to be done with the trip,” the other chimed in. “This stagecoach is a hard way to travel.”

  “Yes,” Juliet told the driver, seeming more at ease. “And you were taking too long.”

  The driver let out a huff. “I was only making sure this is the man you came here for.” He gestured to Carl. “You don’t want to end up with the wrong one, do you?”

  “That’s silly,” Juliet said as she let him help her out. “I know which town my intended is at.”

  “She’s right. And we know which town we’re supposed to go to,” one of the women agreed.

  The driver rolled his eyes. “Usually, I’d assume women are smart enough to know when to get off in the right town, but not all of them do.”

  By the skeptical look on Juliet’s face, Carl suspected she didn’t believe him. But to her credit, she didn’t voice her opinion. Instead, she glanced over at Carl. “Are you Carl Richie?”

  “Yes,” Carl spoke up and stepped forward.

  “You look just like you said you would in the missive.”

  “You do, too,” he slowly replied as the driver went to retrieve her trunk. “But I didn’t think you’d be dressed up in expensive clothes.”

  “Oh, this.” She glanced down at her dress and chuckled. “It’s the only expensive thing I own. The rest of my clothes aren’t nearly so nice.”

  He wasn’t sure, but he thought there was a hint of unease in her laugh.

  She cleared her throat. “It was easier to wear this than it was to pack it.” As if she needed to further explain things to him, she gestured to the trunk the driver set at his feet. “See? This would fill up the entire thing.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “A woman is entitled to one pretty dress, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” His mother and Lydia had liked pretty dresses, though he hadn’t been able to afford fancy dresses for Lydia, something she was always quick to point out. He waited until the driver had returned to the stagecoach before he whispered, “I hope I made it clear that I don’t have much money. In fact, I only have enough to give us food to eat.”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied, also keeping her voice low. “I don’t expect to wear dresses like this all the time. It’s just that this particular one is special to me.”

  “You mean, it belonged to your mother?”

  “Yes, something like that. Anyway, I don’t plan to put it back on after today. If you want, you can sell it and use the money for more food.”

  That was odd. Why would she make such an offer with a dress that was special to her?

  “And since we’re talking about food,” she continued before he could ask the question weighing on his mind, “do you want to get anything?” She gestured to the entrance of the general store.

  He glanced at the window. Daniel was in there, but none of the other people who gave him grief were. So maybe this was a good time for her to get anything she needed. He didn’t relish the idea of coming back into town any time soon. It’d be easier if they could get everything over with today.

  “Yes, we should go in there,” he told her. “But I don’t have more than two dollars. I haven’t been able to pan for gold as much as I usually do.” And never mind telling her why. The whole time he was holed up in his cabin because Lydia’s killer had threatened him wasn’t exactly his fondest memory.

  “I can keep it to two dollars,” she assured him, seeming so sure of herself that his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  Now this, he had to see. He couldn’t recall a time when any woman could go into a store and stick to the budget.

  He took her trunk and put it in the back of his wagon. Then he led her into the store, glad Eric had thought to make Hank and Wilber leave so they wouldn’t give him any more trouble. The last thing he needed was for his new wife to see what a joke he was in this town. That would be a horrible start to this marriage.

  “What things do you already have at home?” she asked him.

  He ran off the list of staple items quickly. Not because he had that great of a memory, but because it was all he ever got whenever he was in town.

  “You have most of what I need,” she replied then went over to the counter where Daniel was counting coins.

  As much as Carl didn’t want to deal directly with the man, he had no choice. Yes, Daniel hadn’t accused him of being a bad husband, but it still irked him that Daniel had been so quick to assume he’d killed Lydia.

  “Good afternoon,” Daniel called out to them. His gaze went to Carl. “Is this the woman you just married?”

  “We’ll be getting married right after this,” Carl replied.

  Juliet glanced from him to Daniel, as if she sensed the tension between them, but thankfully, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she listed off the items she wanted, and Carl was relieved when he realized he didn’t have to spend more than $1.50. Not only had she stuck to the budget, but she’d actually gone below it. This was the first time he’d ever witnessed such a thing, and he wondered if he’d ever see such an anomaly ever again.

  Once Carl paid for the items, he carried them out to the wagon then placed them next to the trunk. He helped her into the wagon and then hopped up so he could sit beside her, keeping a safe distance between them. He really wasn’t looking forward to this evening, but he had to have a child and there was only one way that was going to happen.

  He released the brake. Before he could get the child, he had to get married because the will stipulated the child had to be le
gitimate. If it was up to him, he’d never get married again. He’d already been chained to Lydia for years and those were years he’d never get back. But what choice did he have? His father had him bound to this situation, and there was no way he was getting out of it.

  “Are you alright?” Juliet asked.

  He snapped the reins. “I’m fine.” As the horses pulled them forward, he added, “I should warn you about the preacher. He likes to talk. A lot. I’d rather have the judge marry us, but he’s in the next town. Both men travel from town to town. You pretty much get stuck with whoever’s here.”

  She offered him a smile. “I don’t mind.”

  That was easy to say when she didn’t realize just how longwinded the preacher was going to be. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  He chanced a look at her. Was she really agreeable to this? She wasn’t being sarcastic? She wasn’t annoyed they couldn’t do this quickly and be on their way home? But then, why would she be in a hurry to get home? There wasn’t much to see. Just a one-bedroom cabin with a small living space and cookstove.

  His mother had cried when she first saw it. It’s only for a little while until I get gold, his father had comforted her. And “a little while” had turned into years, and his father had died while searching for it.

  “It’s probably just as well that the preacher will talk a lot,” he said. “The cabin is a sorry excuse for a home. There’s no reason to be eager to see it.”

  Though her eyebrows furrowed, she didn’t comment, and he decided not to volunteer any more than that. Once she saw it, she’d understand. She might cry like his mother had, or she might follow Lydia’s lead and yell at him. Either way, it was bound to be unpleasant.

  He led the horses down a couple of blocks and pulled the wagon to a stop when they reached Eric and Caroline’s house. The preacher used to stay with Jerry and his family, but since that was no longer possible, Eric and Caroline had agreed to house him when he was in town. And that worked to Carl’s advantage. Neither Eric nor Caroline gave him a hard time, so at least the ceremony would be bearable.

 

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