Butler, Reece - A Contract Bride's Triple Surprise [Bride Train 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “Bed her well, and put yer babe in her belly,” said Gillis. “Bring Nev in to keep her warm. He’ll make her laugh, and it’ll strengthen the Clan. Then ye can kill whoever ye want.”

  “Show me the marriage contract, and I’ll sign.”

  “No need.” Gillis almost smiled. “I forged yer name and sent the papers before Hope was born. Congratulations, lad. Yer wife already rode the Bride Train. She’ll be in Tanner’s Ford tomorrow.”

  Chapter Two

  Hot, dusty, and exhausted, Amelia Smathers MacDougal sat back while the men sharing her stagecoach disembarked. Early in her journey, she’d learned to let the men out first. One had “accidentally” touched her in a most disturbing manner as she bent forward to exit the cramped space.

  “Mrs. MacDougal?”

  She didn’t recognize the voice or the name. She waited for the craggy face peering into the coach to pull back.

  “Amelia MacDougal?”

  She blinked. “Oh! Yes.”

  The man held a flat black hat, wisps of hair sticking up, proving he’d just removed it. He had the usual bushy moustache, but it was neatly trimmed above his lip. His smile seemed genuine if one could judge by the crinkles around his eyes. His black coat had a well-polished silver star pinned to it.

  “I’m Sheriff Frank Chambers, ma’am. Your husband sent me to meet you. Unfortunately, he won’t be here until this evening.”

  She’d requested in her last letter to meet in a dark room for the first time. She wasn’t sure if he would agree. It would be hard enough to bare her body to a man. Doing so when he could see her scars was too much.

  “May I escort you to the Tanner’s Ford Hotel? Mrs. McLeod has everything ready.”

  She recognized the names from the letters Prue had sent. She’d even drawn mental pictures of the people over the years. The sheriff was as expected, tall, slim, and with a twinkle in his eye. She shifted to the edge of the seat, keeping her shoulders back and head high.

  “Prudence mentioned your wife’s kindness in her letters, Sheriff.”

  “I’ll pass that on to Mary. We’re all sorry for your loss, Mrs. MacDougal. Your sister was well liked. The cold, dry mountain air was hard on her lungs and coughing so much only made it worse.” He shook his head. “Gillis has taken her death pretty hard. We’re hoping having you here will help him along.”

  “Thank you. Prudence often wrote how much she loved her husband. Though she was told it would weaken her, she so wanted a child for him. Before she died, I agreed to come West and raise her daughter as my own child.”

  “That must have comforted her, and Gillis.”

  He held his hand out so she grabbed the leather handle of her tapestry carpetbag in her left hand and gave the sheriff her right. She bent forward to step out and realized she needed his strong grip. Even after she reached the boardwalk, her legs, cramped from bracing against the bumps all the way from Bannack City, took a moment to hold her weight.

  “Almost home,” he said. He released her hand once she was steady. “You’ll be on the MD Connected tomorrow.”

  Amelia stood on gray wood planks in front of an impressive red brick building. Five steps rose to the front door, flanked by tall windows with curved tops. It had a wide second-story balcony.

  “This building resembles the hotel in Bannack City.”

  “It should. Amos McLeod copied the design. He believed Tanner’s Ford would grow, so he built a hotel to suit his ambition.” He gestured, his hand sweeping wide. “As you can see, we’re not there yet. But his widow has the best food in a hundred miles.”

  At the mention of food, her stomach grumbled. Loudly. Face heating, she pressed her reticule against her complaining belly.

  “My wife doesn’t like to eat much when she rides the stagecoach, either,” said the sheriff with a smile. He held out his left forearm. “Shall we?”

  She placed her fingers on his arm as if going in for supper at the most elegant ball back East. Once inside, she noted the building was different from the one in Bannack City. A polished oak counter ran along the left wall while the Hotel Meade had one dividing the room. However, an identical staircase curved up to her right to the second floor.

  “Mr. Lumley will take care of you, ma’am.”

  He put down her bag and nodded politely. After a sharp look at the clerk, he strolled down the hallway toward the back of the hotel. The aroma of roasting meat suggested he was looking for the dining room rather than bank robbers.

  She’d signed a marriage contract with Nevin MacDougal, a man she knew only by her deceased sister’s letters. This evening, she’d meet him for the first time. Though the room was warm, her face suddenly heated at the thought. Perhaps tomorrow morning, the tempestuous feelings that had haunted her for years would be gone. They were not acceptable even in a married woman, but at least she’d know what the marriage bed was all about. She pressed her legs together, dreading yet anticipating her first night with her husband.

  “Good afternoon, madam. I am Maurice Lumley, clerk of this establishment. I speak for the good citizens of Tanner’s Ford when I welcome you to this settlement. Mr. MacDougal stipulated that we ensure your relaxation. Once you are settled in the bridal suite, hot water will be sent up with a light collation. Mr. MacDougal informed us he expects to join you early this evening. He suggested you may wish to rest after your arduous journey.”

  She stared at the clerk. She couldn’t tell if he used ten-dollar words to show off, or to put her down. All her life, she wanted to fit in. This time, it would not be as a dormouse.

  “Thank you for your exceedingly unctuous welcome,” she replied.

  He blinked twice. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had a dictionary hidden under his bed. He’d have to wait until this evening to find out if she’d insulted or praised him. He lifted a large brass key from under the desk and rang a silver bell. A barefoot young boy appeared, panting as if he’d run all the way from Bannack City. Matted, brown hair hung long over his bowed head. His tattered clothing, while cleaner than many she’d seen, was too small for him. His pants stopped well above his bare feet.

  “Show Mrs. MacDougal to the bridal suite.” Though the boy stood near, the clerk spoke each word as if the child was hard of hearing and slow of wit. “The copper tub is in the big room. Fill it with hot water. Nettie has it heating in the kitchen.”

  Bath? In a tub?

  Her father refused to have a tub in the house. She was lucky to have hot water and a sponge to get clean. She never thought about it until she discovered he bathed at his club. However, more was provided than hot water.

  A few months earlier, she was curled up in the library with a book when her father and a few friends relaxed by the fire before supper. Caught where she was not supposed to be, she held still, hoping they wouldn’t notice her. She was also eager to learn what happened outside her small household existence.

  She listened as they chatted about the previous night’s entertainment. They spoke about the luxurious baths and lovely attendants and boasted about how many they’d had. Two laughed about how they’d joined up to “take Betty front and back” and how the woman had squealed. Amelia was stumped as to what they meant. Another stated which part of Betty he wanted the next time, boasting as to the size of his cockstand and her ability to enjoy it every way he wanted.

  Her heart beat so fast she felt paralyzed. Her head spun. She opened her mouth to get enough air to breathe without making noise. She managed to remain quiet for a few minutes until they were called to dinner.

  Two men having relations with one woman, at the same time! Her body buzzed as she tried to figure out what would go where. She ran upstairs to her cold dinner tray.

  Her wicked dreams became much wilder after that.

  A bath meant getting totally naked and immersing oneself in a tub of hot water. After days of travelling, sleeping upright on the train as best as possible, it sounded like heaven. She plucked at the dusty sleeves of her dress. Though she’d chang
ed her underthings every other day, she hadn’t removed her black mourning dress since she left home.

  The boy grabbed her bag and turned away without waiting to see if she followed. He moved nimbly across the dark, polished floor and up the curving stairs. He kept his hands tight against his body as if to ensure he didn’t touch anything. She lifted her heavy skirts with her right hand. After the third step, she held the dark wooden banister with her left as she hauled her weary body up the stairs. She stopped counting at eighteen steps, instead focusing on the prospect of stripping down and stepping into a soothing bath.

  The boy set her carpetbag down at the second door. He slid around her, mumbling about water, and dashed down the hall to the back stairs. She opened the door and stepped into the main room. Like the hallway, it had high ceilings. An open door in the center of the far wall showed the foot of a bed. She gulped and turned away as another burst of heat blossomed over her body.

  The promised tub sat to one side of the room. It was so big she would be able to sit down in it. A screen between the tub and tall windows would guard her modesty. Her feet tapped against the wide wooden boards as she crossed the room to the huge window. As she was on the second story and the other buildings were lower, she had a good view of the street to the east.

  Beside the hotel were two small log buildings and a house. Across from the house was Tanner’s Ford Mercantile. Other log buildings fronted the gray boardwalks, which lined the wide street on both sides. She watched the goings-on while the boy filled the tub with wonderful, steaming water.

  A few women strolled along, but most of the people were men. After all, that was why the Bride Train was necessary. It brought together the large number of unmarried women in the East to the wild lands, and men, of the West.

  Was her husband down there? She looked for a tall, broad man with red hair and beard, as Prue had described Gillis. For some reason, though she received details on the townspeople and Gillis, Prue wrote very little about her brothers-in-law. Even after Prue insisted she marry Nevin, she said little other than he was a good, kind man who would take care of her.

  As the men all wore hats, it made red-headed-husband-spotting difficult. Some men were exceedingly scruffy while others resembled Eastern dandies. They strolled, strutted, or stomped along the boards, lifting their hats at the few women.

  She was about to turn away when another man came into view, one very different from the others. He didn’t use the boardwalk but strutted down the center of the dusty street. She looked again. No, he didn’t strut. He walked as if he owned the street, and if anyone felt different, he’d convince them to his way of thinking.

  What would it be like to have even a tenth of such confidence? To walk tall, able to take care of yourself without nasty whispers or pointed looks of pity. If she were a man, she could take care of herself. Maybe not as well as the man below, but enough to hold her head high for once.

  He wore a leather vest without a shirt, revealing wide, brown shoulders. Dark hair flowed to the middle of his back from under a battered hat. Dark pants and boots completed his outfit. A dog trotted behind and to one side. He turned toward the far side of the street. Men slowed, watching to see where he’d go. A couple of women bustled into a shop, looking over their shoulders as if needing to get to safety.

  The man continued across the street as if oblivious. He stepped onto the boardwalk and, after giving the dog a good scratch, entered the mercantile. The dog wagged his tail for a moment more and curled up beside the door. The street seemed to sigh in relief. The women reappeared, craning their necks and pointing down the street after him.

  She wouldn’t mind getting a closer look as well. He exuded strength, a power that seemed to vibrate around him. Amelia shivered in spite of the heat. The unmentionable spot between her legs throbbed. Her nipples hardened.

  The man made her feel as if she was in one of her wild dreams. Her unnatural dreams often lasted into the day while she rode the train. With Father dead, and having never met her husband, she could dream all she liked. Unfortunately, she couldn’t touch herself as she wished.

  The faceless men in her dreams did things that made her gasp in delight. She wasn’t sure what they did but knew it would be wonderful. The tough man in the street made her quiver with the same need, and she didn’t know why.

  Prue insisted Nevin was perfect for her. He was kind and polite, holding her chair if Gillis was away. He smiled and joked with her, even brought wildflowers from the meadow now and then.

  She didn’t think a “kind and polite” man would make her feel the same as the man in the vest had. But even if he didn’t make her tingle, Nevin would give her babies to love. With a son to inherit, she’d never get thrown out of her home again.

  * * * *

  An hour later and thoroughly clean from her long soak, Amelia ran her fingers through her long, dark hair to dry it. Father was right. Sitting in a tub of hot water gave one improper ideas. Rubbing the soapy cloth over herself in the bathtub make it hard to breathe. Her cleanest parts were her breasts and between her legs.

  She looked at the bed, wide enough for two. What would happen tonight when she shared that bed with Nevin? Would it hurt, like she’d been taught? Or would he make her tingle like happened when she touched herself?

  By morning, she would know.

  Though it was early May, the day had been hot, and the room was still warm. Since the hot water had heated her skin even more, she wore only the drying cloth provided with the bath. Unlike her clothing, it was clean. Other than her carpetbag and a small trunk, everything she’d brought was still on its way to the hotel. They’d promised her it would arrive in the morning so her husband could bring it home in the wagon.

  She should unpack her clean travelling dress and shake out the wrinkles for morning. The bed drew her eye. She couldn’t sleep well sitting up on a train surrounded by strangers. Once enough women left the Bride carriage, they’d let male passengers in. The last few nights, she sat next to a married couple for safety, being the only unaccompanied woman on the train.

  She yawned, hastily covering her mouth. She should be nervous rather than falling asleep. She lifted her arms over her head and brushed her hair back from her face. The cloth, loosened with the action, fell to the floor. Her breasts filled. She brushed them with her hands, knowing it was wicked but enjoying the rush of pleasure. She had a few hours before her husband arrived, and the bed looked so inviting. Finally, she could touch herself. She might never have a chance to be alone in bed again.

  She dropped her thin summer nightgown over her head. She folded the damp drying cloth and placed it over the edge of the tub. She padded to the bed, pulled back the light covers, and climbed in. The ropes underneath barely made a sound. The mattress, far softer than anything she’d laid on in so long, rustled slightly when she moved.

  She sighed and relaxed. Pretending it was the man in the street, she touched her breast.

  Chapter Three

  As soon as it was fully dark, Ross entered the hotel through the back entrance. He didn’t try to hide. He just didn’t want to advertise the fact he was about to bed his wife. Not that anyone would recognize the tall man in a neat, dark suit. Simon Elliott’s suit.

  He walked quietly down the long hallway. A few sounds filtered through the open transom windows above the doors. He mentally catalogued them as he passed. No danger there. The ones who would cause problems wouldn’t be back from Baldy’s Saloon until the wee hours. He stopped outside the second door from the front.

  His wife waited in there. If she was anything like Prudence, he wouldn’t have to worry about her clinging to him. Like damn near every woman he’d met, Prue was scared of him. The few others wanted the temporary excitement of being with a man who made tough men gulp and back away. A woman didn’t bring that type of man home.

  None of them cared about who he was or what he wanted in life. He didn’t expect his wife to be any different. At least she’d insisted on meeting in the dark
for the first time. She’d be able to see his size but not his features.

  And damn, he was looking forward to her feeling his size. Every inch of it throbbed, and there were more inches pressing against his thigh than in years.

  He knocked lightly on the suite door. When he heard nothing, he used the key Sophie provided when he rented the room. He bolted the door behind him. Not being the trusting sort, he set a chair in front of the door. His hearing was like a fox, but he’d never tested it when he was occupied with a wife.

  The dim room held a light scent of roses, like the fancy milled soap sold at the Tanner’s Ford Mercantile. Sophie told him Amelia had brought only one small trunk upstairs. The rest of her things would arrive by wagon in the morning. Waiting for it would give him time to learn about Amelia before heading home. By then, the wagon would be full of whatever a city woman considered necessary.

  Prue said Amelia had brown hair, was a few inches shorter, and had terrible burn scars on her face, right hand, and arm. Other than that, he knew little.

  His eyes fully adjusted to the dark during the few minutes it took to rest his jacket over the back of a chair and pull off his boots. He walked silently to the half-open door to the bedroom. His lungs contracted and heart thudded hard. He grasped the doorjamb with his hand.

  “Hot damn,” he whispered.

  His wife lay on her left side, facing the far wall. A shaft of moonlight from the high window lit her body. She wore an almost sheer, white nightgown. Brown hair streamed across the pillow like a pennant held by a galloping Army soldier. Her body dipped from her shoulders to her waist before flaring to wide hips. A dark shadow showed the cleft between her plump ass cheeks. He choked. She sighed and rolled onto her back, proving her breasts were as ample as the rest of her.