Butler, Reece - 1 Bed, 2 Weddings, 3 Husbands [Bride Train 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “What? You—”

  “Me and Judge Thatcher will have us a talk. But the J Bar C will hold Smythe’s crates until the judge tells me otherwise.”

  She lifted her head and swallowed. Jed thought her chin might have trembled, but she immediately clenched her jaw, so he couldn’t tell.

  “Then I will go with this wagon and wait until the judge rules in my favor.” She inhaled and nodded to herself, as if an important question had been answered. “You will wait for me to get my carpetbag.” It was a command, not a question or comment.

  “I’ll hold the horse,” said Barstow. “If you’re like my wife, you might want to stop first. That’s a bumpy road you’ll be riding. There’s a privy out back.”

  She flushed again but nodded with dignity and stomped into Smythe’s ridiculously large house. They heard her footsteps echo across the wood floor as she headed through to the kitchen.

  “I hear you’re lookin’ for a wife,” said Barstow quietly. He caught Jed with intelligent eyes. “She’s female and unmarried. If Smythe hired her as housekeeper, maybe she can cook.”

  Jed gasped as if a punch had landed in his belly. His mind rebelled, but his cock, which had finally relaxed enough that he wasn’t in pain, filled again. He grimaced.

  “Oh, no,” he said. “I’m not marrying her.”

  “She’s a fine-lookin’ woman,” said Barstow. “Tall and sturdy, with wide hips for carrying young’uns. You could do a lot worse.”

  Though the thought of bedding a woman—any woman—had him harder than a pickax, he shuddered.

  “You heard her screaming. She’s a loud, quarrelsome shrew. I won’t spend my life being screeched at and ordered around by a woman.”

  “Then do what Mr. Shakespeare wrote about in that play.” Barstow’s huge moustache made it hard to tell, but Jed swore there was a smile under his bristles.

  “What’s it about?” Riley adjusted his pants and pulled his coat to cover his belt.

  “The Taming Of The Shrew,” said the sheriff. He winked. “I think you boys can figure out what happens.”

  “Does he win?” asked Clint.

  Barstow nodded his head. Clint and Riley perked up.

  “You think we can tame Miss Edison into being a sweet-tempered woman, eager to share her bed with all three of us?” asked Clint. His pants had an obvious bulge, one he didn’t bother to hide.

  “I bet the three of you could sweeten the lady,” said Barstow. “Maybe she’s just tired from coming all this way by herself. A woman’s not used to contracts, and it seems mighty important to her.”

  “The lady does deserve respect for that,” said Clint.

  “So she has principles,” groused Jed. “She’s still loud, ill-tempered, and who knows what else.”

  Barstow shrugged. “Why not give her a chance to show who she can be when she’s rested? You might be surprised.”

  Jed grunted to acknowledge the idea, but he wasn’t grabbing on with both hands.

  “I know Mary can be”—the sheriff glanced at his house next door, and lowered his voice—“a mite cantankerous at certain times. But there’s ways to change a woman’s mind, if she’s interested.” His lips twitched up in a quick smile. “The pickings are mighty slim in wives out here. Ben Elliott warned me to bring my own and it’s a good thing I did.”

  “Mary seems like a happy woman,” said Riley.

  “I intend to keep her that way. But if you want a happy wife, you gotta do some compromisin’.” Barstow’s keen glance hit Jed square on. “If you don’t go after Miss Edison, it could be a year or more afore you get another chance at a wife. Best take what the good Lord brung you.”

  Jed met his partners’ eager eyes. The sheriff was right. If he’d been contracted to do a job and someone tried to stop him, he’d be pretty hot under his collar, too. He’d give Miss Edison a chance to show her true character, but if one of them wanted to marry her, it should be Clint. She seemed to like him. A smile fought to escape. If she could cook, they might even get a decent supper tonight.

  * * * *

  Victoria rushed to the tiny room off the kitchen where she’d set her carpetbag. She had to go along with the three men. Jed mentioned family. The one called Clint seemed to know how to treat a lady, so perhaps he was married. He was certainly handsome enough to catch a woman’s eye. She hoped he didn’t notice that she’d blushed when he held her waist.

  She certainly reacted strongly to the leader, Jed Adams. Though he was handsome as well, he was also domineering. She never, ever let a man touch her. Was that why she felt such a surge of lust when he held her against his chest? His hard chest, which smelled wonderful, unlike the aromas emitted by the fusty old men or overly scented young ones who were far too common back East.

  While she was a virgin, she was not innocent to the ways of men. She’d felt the hard cock rubbing against her bottom as she struggled. Felt it, and wanted it. Goodness, had she inherited her mother’s hot blood after all? Men never attracted her. She knew they could not be trusted.

  At least, none had attracted her until today. She shivered in heat while groaning in dismay as she trotted to the privy.

  Her body had never felt that type of heat before. Yet two men within the space of minutes had made her want to throw herself against them. Even the third partner, Riley, had a wide smile that made her want to get to know him better.

  She sat on the smooth seat and sagged. She was tired. No, exhausted. Years of worry followed by weeks of terror about her future had worn her down. The wonderful opportunity provided by Mr. Smythe was a godsend. Not only had she escaped with her virtue intact, she had a bright future. As housekeeper to a wealthy, influential man of business she could hold her head high. For the first time in her life she would be free of scandal. She would let nothing smear her reputation, no matter what she had to do. Tanner’s Ford was her only hope of redemption, and no trio of arrogant, handsome, arousing thieves would ruin her future!

  She would fulfill this contract to the letter. She’d keep Mr. Smythe’s precious boxes safe, set up his household, and then she’d be paid. She could work for him as housekeeper until she found a wonderful man to raise a family with. Someone decent and kind, who respected and admired her. A sensible, trustworthy, honorable husband to give her the loving home she always dreamed of, and children to love.

  Yes, her children would have two loving parents. They would be cared for with dignity and respect, and would have a position in society where they could hold their heads up with pride.

  Victoria was calm, her head high, when she arrived at the front door. She peeked out the window. The sheriff was still there, making sure the wagon didn’t leave without her. She removed her bonnet and smoothed her hair back. Now that she was an unmarried woman with a respected position, perhaps she could change her hair and clothing to appear more attractive. First, she had to be paid by Mr. Smythe.

  She knew all the tricks, thanks to her mother, but would have died before leaving her bedroom without making herself look as drab and unappealing as possible. She’d realized when she was twelve that hiding, and looking ugly when she had to be seen, was the only way to be safe.

  After tying her bonnet strings snugly under her chin, she stood straight. After years of trying to appear shorter, and cowering when necessary, she had to learn to keep her spine straight. She would succeed. She would be known as Miss Edison. She would have a place in society where she was welcomed in the best homes. Her opinion would be sought, and her children would be free to choose any life they wished.

  She would keep her contract with Mr. Smythe, and he would keep her secret.

  As soon as she opened the door, she knew something had changed. The sheriff stared at his boots while the other three looked at her as if she might be for sale. Appraising, as if determining whether they could afford her, or if she’d be worth trying out.

  Oh, goodness, do they know? Her chest contracted, and she couldn’t breathe. The men wavered in front of her. Her legs
wobbled, and she grabbed for something to hold herself from collapsing. Clint rushed forward and caught her before she crumpled. He held her snug to his warm chest. Hating her weakness and loving his touch, she clutched his shirt, her eyes closed. Her fear eased, and she inhaled the wonderfully different smell of leather, horse, and what must be a spicy soap. It was nothing like the men who came to her mother’s home.

  “When was the last time you ate, Miss Edison?”

  Clint’s deep voice rumbled through his chest to hers. For the first time in forever, she felt safe. He must be married. That meant she should not allow herself to enjoy this need to have him hold her. She opened her eyes and struggled to be released. He frowned and held her tighter.

  “I had a biscuit or two this morning,” she said. His eyes and hair were brown, but he didn’t look at all plain. She wanted her children to have a father like this. Warm and caring, rather than cold and threatening.

  “No wonder you dang near fainted,” said the sheriff. “I bet you didn’t drink anything, neither, so you wouldn’t have to stop on the way.”

  She nodded, mortified that a man would not only understand, but say it out loud. Of course she wouldn’t want to ask the deliverymen to stop for her to do her business, especially as there were few trees to hide behind. Montana Territory was a desolate place compared to back East. But she would take a land’s desolation over a city’s disgust.

  “Put her in the wagon, Clint. I’ll get something from the hotel,” said Jed. His stomach rumbled, and he snorted a laugh. “Might as well get something for all of us.” He headed across the wide street.

  She struggled again to get away from Clint’s warm arms.

  “Enough of that,” said Clint. “I’m putting you in the wagon.” He winked at her. “Can’t have our guest perishing from hunger.”

  This wagon wasn’t as tall as the delivery vehicle, so she could have climbed on by herself, but he seemed to enjoy carrying her. She enjoyed it also. Too much. Though their first glances were appraising, Clint and Riley now looked on her with concern. She couldn’t remember a man caring about her for any reason. But then, she’d made sure she had nothing to do with them. It was safer that way.

  “I’m not a guest,” she said. She gave them a small smile as a thank-you for their concern over her. “Just a temporary nuisance.”

  Clint carefully handed her up to Riley. “We’ll see about that,” he mumbled.

  Chapter Two

  Victoria shivered and wrapped her shawl tighter when another gust hit, but she didn’t complain. She’d learned early that it did no good and, if she was noticed, made things worse. The temperature had dropped with the clouds racing in from the northwest. The wind rushed down the mountains, into the valley, and hit them in the face. It was better for a bit when they turned south, but there weren’t any trees above the river to block the wind. Luckily, Riley was on her right, and his body protected her from the worst of the icy rain peppering her face.

  As usual, she had quite a few layers under her outer dress, though none of them were more than thin, cheap cotton. Her mother, however, had expensive tastes. The tightly woven wool paisley shawl, which Victoria had rescued from the trash and cleaned, helped keep her warm.

  “There’s home,” said Riley, pointing at the large cabin above them.

  She dabbed her eyes with a corner of the shawl and peered through the rain. It was nothing like her mother’s three-story elegant residence, but it would be warm and dry. That was all she cared about at this point. As soon as they left town, Jed and Clint rode ahead, to get a fire going they said. She didn’t ask why the wife wouldn’t have already done so.

  There had to be a wife!

  Riley pulled the wagon right up to the small porch. A shaft of welcoming light shone out when Clint opened the door. Her fingers were so cold that she couldn’t hold on to the side of the wagon when she climbed down. She slipped, and once more Clint caught her. He picked her up and carried her through the front door. He set her down, and a wave of warmth enveloped her. He pulled off her soaked shawl, replacing it with a warmed blanket. He directed her to a rocking chair by the fire.

  “Coffee will be a few minutes,” he said.

  She looked around the neat cabin. No curtains on the windows. No dresses hung on a nail, and there were no pictures, or even a pretty rock or two for the window ledge. Jed came out of a back room with another blanket.

  “Doesn’t your wife keep the fire going during the day?”

  “Wife?” Jed snorted like a bull.

  “You’re the first woman to enter our home,” said Clint.

  She looked from one to the other. Both blinked back, dead serious. “But, you said Mr. Smythe cheated your family. I thought you meant your wife and children.”

  “We are family,” explained Clint. “Jed and Riley’s mothers are my aunts. We’re the only ones here.” He smiled kindly. “Unless a family of packrats has moved in.”

  “Oh, no,” she whispered.

  She was alone with three men, in a cabin far from town. She couldn’t stay here and ruin her reputation. Not when she’d come thousands of miles to redeem herself. But the sheriff would be by, maybe after supper. Surely the rain would stop by then. Sheriff Barstow would rule that the boxes be returned to Mr. Smythe’s house, and she’d go with them. She couldn’t destroy her reputation the first day she arrived!

  “You’re safe with us, Miss Edison,” said Clint. He hunkered down beside her and adjusted the blanket. He looked at her from only a couple of inches away. She noticed honey flecks in his brown eyes. “None of us would touch you…without your permission.” His eyes twinkled. “You can have the bed upstairs and we’ll sleep down here.”

  A rush of heat hit. It was strongest at her face, breasts, and between her legs. The sensation both aroused and shocked her. Was this what her mother had felt for her father? No matter how interesting the feeling, or how much she wanted more, she would never give up her life for a man’s touch.

  “I won’t be here long enough for that, Mr. Fortune. As soon as the sheriff arrives, I’ll be gone with Mr. Smythe’s belongings.”

  A wave of cold blew over her as Riley stepped inside. He pushed the door shut and stood there, dripping. He swept his hat off and smacked it against his thigh. Drops flew.

  “Feels like a three-day blow.” Riley rubbed his hands together. He blew on his fingers while he watched her. “That means we’ll have a lot of time on our hands. You know how to play checkers and dominoes, Miss Edison?”

  “Three days? No!”

  This was not going to happen. Her stomach clenched, the same way it used to when Mother would…The food she ate in town threatened to come back up. She fought to stand, pushing her blankets off. She got her balance and strode toward the door.

  “I can’t be here overnight, much less three days,” she said. She touched the latch, but before she could open the door, Riley grabbed her around the middle. It pressed her cold, soaking clothes against her body. “Let me go!”

  “Sorry, ma’am, but no one’ll be visiting until the storm’s over.”

  “But the sheriff—”

  “Has other things on his mind,” said Jed from across the room. “He’ll be by when he gets time.”

  She shoved Riley’s arms away. “You don’t understand! I can’t stay here without a chaperone. My reputation will be ruined!”

  “Maybe the storm’ll only last one night,” said Riley.

  “You think so?”

  “Could be.” He had a wonderful smile. His eyes turned up at the corners the same way his lips did. Her sister would be jealous of his long lashes. “I don’t think one night will ruin you, especially since no one was on the street except us and the sheriff.”

  She nodded, calming herself. “That’s true. If no one knows, I’ll be safe.”

  “What’s wrong with staying here with us?” Jed scowled. “The whole town knows we wouldn’t harm a lady.”

  But she wasn’t a lady. She had the same last name
that her mother was born with. When her sweet, blonde, petite little sister was four years old and Victoria seven, she was banned from the drawing room because she was so tall and plain. She hadn’t seen her father since. She didn’t even know his last name.

  “I can’t take a chance of ruining my good character.” She felt their accusing eyes and had to explain she was not insulting them. “Other than my contract with Mr. Smythe, it’s all I have.” She said it with the quiet dignity that infuriated her mother.

  “Well, it’s too late now,” said Jed “You’re the one who forced your way onto that wagon. You’ll just have to put up with us until we can get you back to town.”

  “With Mr. Smythe’s boxes,” she said quietly.

  “No!” chorused all three men.

  She jumped at the explosive sound. Tears threatened, something she did not allow. Ever. She held her head high and marched over to the stove. She had to do something to keep busy. She’d learned at seven that if she had value, she was tolerated. They might not touch her if she was of use to them.

  “Is there anything prepared for dinner, or shall I start from scratch?”

  She swallowed in the silence. She turned.

  “There’s a haunch of venison in the pantry,” said Clint in a hollow voice.

  “You can cook?” Riley’s expression looked hopeful and eager.

  She noted Clint’s comment and answered Riley’s.

  “Of course I can cook. I was hired as a housekeeper. I can cook, clean, mend, wash, plant, harvest—”

  “You’re hired,” said Jed. The others murmured agreement.

  “I’m already employed, thank you very much.”

  “If we say you’re our housekeeper, your important reputation won’t be ruined.”

  What they said was poppycock, but she knew better than to tell them so. She ignored them, pretending she hadn’t heard.

  “Where’s the pantry? Do you have the makings for pastry, or shall I make a stew?”

  “Pastry?” Riley slavered like a starving wolf. “Can we keep her, Jed?” He spoke like a boy talking about a kitten or puppy. “She followed us home. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go. So, can we keep her? Please?”