Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,5
longed for companionship. A gentle touch.
And a chance to keep his name alive, to pass it down.
That was him. Two months ago, he’d looked around at all his friends, married with a passel of kids between them and happier than he’d ever seen. He’d envied that.
“Tally was held in an asylum for a while—I recall she had a lot of damage from that. Do you think prison would be part and parcel about the same?”
Clay kept his attention on the tobacco he tapped in a line on the thin paper. “I suppose the two places would bear similarity. No doubt Miss Jancy will need a lot of patience and care.”
“Yeah.”
Tait Trinity rode by on his blue roan and waved. He was another man who’d listened to Luke. He’d taken a mail-order bride last fall while he still had a five-thousand-dollar bounty on his head, and from all appearances, he and Melanie Dunbar had made it work. But then, he’d later gotten a pardon from the governor. Ridge had no hope for that unless the girl who’d lied, a woman now, came forward and told the truth.
Besides, since then, he had killed others in self-defense. He had to answer for those, one way or another.
Ridge picked up another board. “Tell me again why we’re building this bank and don’t yet have a banker.”
“One’s coming next month.” Clay held a nail to a plank and slammed it into place with one powerful strike of the hammer. “My understanding is it’s a father and daughter, and they’re traveling by stage from San Francisco.”
“A bank is a sure sign of progress. I wouldn’t have given you two cents for our chances when you first got the idea to build a town here. Now look at it. We’ve expanded homes outside of the canyon and have almost every kind of business imaginable.” Ridge pushed back his hat. “Tell me—are you satisfied now, or do you yearn for more?”
Clay licked the edge of his cigarette paper to seal it and patted his pocket for a match. “There are a few things I wish we had. A library would be nice, and an opera house, but I’m satisfied.” A match found, he lit the cigarette. “Still, fire terrifies me. This could all turn to ash in a matter of hours.”
Just like Ridge’s life. One minute, a man could have everything he needed, and the next, it could be stripped away in a flash like it was never there.
“Are you happy being mayor?” Smoke curled around Clay’s head.
“No. I wish we’d elect a new one. It’s time to give up the job.” Ridge lifted another board and placed it against the frame.
“And do what? Go back to the ministry?”
Ridge sucked a sharp breath between his teeth. “I’ll never preach again. God doesn’t listen to a man like me. Besides, the church already has Brother Paul.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a slow-moving wagon coming into town. A second quick look told him that a man and two women occupied it, and they were heading directly for him. The spit dried in Ridge’s mouth. His hand trembled around the hammer he gripped.
He stared as it kept coming, unable to look away. Damn. This was it.
“Nice day, amigos.” Luke Legend set the brake and jumped down from the wagon. “What are you building?”
Ridge glanced at the woman sitting next to Josie. A black lace scarf covered her head and obscured most of her face. She seemed to huddle deeper into the folds, as though wishing to escape his notice.
“It’ll be a bank,” Ridge muttered, and reached to shake Luke’s hand. “Good to see you. Miss Josie, how’s life treating you?”
Josie gave a shake of her blond hair and replied with an infectious smile. “Real good except for being homesick. We left little Elena Rose at the ranch with Stoker this time, so I’m missing her something fierce.”
Ridge started around the wagon to help his bride down and introduce himself when Luke steered him away from the others.
Luke kept his voice low. “There’s something you need to know before you meet Adeline.”
His chest tightened. Was she disfigured? Was that the reason for the veil? “What’s that?”
“She can’t speak.”
Three
Shock jolted Ridge. “What do you mean she can’t talk? Can’t for a medical reason? Did someone cut out her tongue?”
He’d heard how bad prison was and had once met a convict who shook and jerked all the time. Someone had used him as a test subject for a new device, rigged