His Perfect Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 1) Read online

  HIS PERFECT BRIDE

  Copyright ©2015 by Merry Farmer

  Amazon Edition

  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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)

  Embellishment by © Olgasha | Dreamstime.com

  ASIN: B019UBPGSU

  Paperback:

  ISBN-13: 9781522903727

  ISBN-10: 1522903720

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  His Perfect Bride

  By Merry Farmer

  To all the wonderful ladies of Pioneer Hearts,

  who inspired me to take on the wonderful world

  of mail-order brides. Enjoy!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Haskell, Wyoming – 1875

  Haskell, Wyoming was like any other frontier town in that it was made up of a few rows of new buildings surrounded by vast stretches of farm and ranch land, and overlooked by majestic mountains. Like a few other, lucky frontier towns, the railroad connected it to larger cities and the bustling industry of the West Coast.

  But what made Haskell different from every other town in the foothills of the Rockies was that it was inhabited by the strangest collection of thinkers, dreamers, and doers west of the Mississippi. Maybe it was the fact that Howard Haskell—who co-owned Paradise Ranch with his sister, Virginia Piedmont—had woken up one day and decided to build a town out of nothing, just the way he wanted it. Maybe it was the intrepid families—many of whom had traveled west on the Oregon Trail along with Howard’s daughter, Lucy, a decade before—who first settled in the town and still formed its core. Or maybe it was simply the fresh, Wyoming air, and the sunshine that danced across the grasslands and shone off the snow-capped mountains. It gave inhabitants and visitors to the town alike a sense that anything was possible in Haskell.

  Anything was possible, which was exactly why Mr. Charlie Garrett, owner of the Cattleman Hotel, the Silver Dollar Saloon, and the town’s school, invited Virginia Piedmont and her close friend, Mrs. Josephine Evans, to brunch on a balmy spring morning.

  “Ladies, I have an idea I wanted to run past you,” Charlie said, striding into the hotel’s dining room. Charlie wore an expertly tailored suit, the fob of his gold pocket watch showing against his vest. His dark hair was carefully groomed. The only thing that interrupted the image of a wealthy and powerful man of charm and poise was the equally well-dressed two-year-old girl he carried in one arm and her twin brother in the other.

  “Good morning, Miss Ellen.” Josephine rose from her seat at a table by the window to reach for Charlie’s daughter. “And you too, Master Allen.” She leaned forward to kiss the boy’s forehead.

  Virginia hopped up to claim Allen. The two cuddled like old friends—indeed, Virginia and Josephine were considered to be grandmas to everyone in Haskell—before sitting at the table. Virginia promptly handed Allen a buttered biscuit, then said, “This idea of yours had better be more than the two of us babysitting for you, Charlie.”

  Charlie joined the women at the table with a laugh and a smile. “Oh, it’s much more than that.”

  “Well?” Josephine prompted, settling Ellen on her lap and handing her a strawberry. “I’m all ears. We’ve been speculating about what you want all morning.”

  Virginia nodded and hummed in agreement. “Spill it.”

  Charlie chuckled, mostly because Allen lunged toward the table, reaching for Virginia’s teacup right as she spoke. “I’d be careful about what you say with that wiggle worm in your lap. He takes after his mother and will do anything you ask him to do twice as well as you expected it to be done.”

  “Me?” Allen asked, all toddler innocence.

  “Yes, you, my boy.” Charlie reached across to poke his tummy, sending Allen into giggles. “And your mother, which is why I’m here.”

  He took a breath, settled back in his chair, and rolled his shoulders. “The other night, Olivia and I were going over some business regarding my dear, old friend and mentor, Josiah Hurst’s estate. You know that among many of the other charitable institutions he left behind when he passed on, one of them is a home for women who have been battered or abused or otherwise escaped from dangerous situations.”

  “Hurst Home.” Josephine nodded. “You are truly a saint for setting up such a wonderful, safe place for those women.”

  “Well, it was Olivia’s idea as much as mine,” Charlie insisted.

  “Either way, it warms my heart to know that there’s a safe place for those poor women to go in troubled times,” Virginia added.

  “Exactly,” Charlie continued. “That’s what set Olivia to thinking the other night. Some of the stories of the women currently living at Hurst Home would break your heart. They’ve endured so much, and even though the home is a safe place for them, Olivia had the idea that it would be even safer for some of them to start new lives far, far away from the troubles of their pasts.”

  “New lives?” Josephine exchanged a glance with Ellen…who was more interested in the cup of fruit at Josephine’s place than the conversation. “How so?”

  Charlie leaned forward. “Olivia was reading a newspaper that her mother sent her from back home in Ohio. Among its pages, she noticed an advertisement by a miner over in Colorado, looking for a wife.”

  “Ah, mail-order brides.” Virginia nodded. “I hear that quite a few men who have settled out here are sending back East for wives these days.”

  “Which brings me to my point.” Charlie smiled. “Olivia and I feel as though it would benefit a great deal of people if we could find a way to bring some of the women from Hurst Home out here, to Haskell, to be brides for the young men working at Paradise Ranch, or in town, or on any of the other ranches in the area.”

  Josephine and Virginia hummed and exchanged looks of surprise and interest.

  “Well, it would certainly stop so many of them from patronizing Bonnie’s all the time,” Josephine said.

  “Very true.” Virginia nodded slowly. “I’m not saying Bonnie Horner wasn’t smart to open a whorehouse in Haskell.”

  “She certainly did cut down on the amount of mischief all those virile, young ranch hands got into,” Josephine added with a wry drawl.

  “Mmm.” Virginia arched an eyebrow. “
Several of those boys are far more grown up now than they were when Bonnie opened her doors. It’s about time they settled down and started families.”

  “The only way for Haskell to grow is by welcoming families and inviting them to put down roots,” Josephine agreed.

  The two women turned to Charlie once more.

  “I see we’re in agreement.” Charlie winked. “And I think Bonnie would agree with us too, at heart.”

  “She’s got other irons in the fire, that Bonnie,” Virginia said, exchanging a knowing look with Josephine.

  “So are we agreed?” Charlie asked. “Should we send a telegraph to Mrs. Breashears at Hurst Home asking how she feels about the plan?”

  “Absolutely,” Josephine said.

  “The sooner the better,” Virginia agreed.

  “Excellent.” Charlie smiled and tapped the table to seal the deal. “Now all we have to do is figure out which lucky man should be our trial groom.” He twisted to wave across the hotel dining room, catching the eye of the stately, white-haired man standing ramrod straight near the doorway to the lobby.

  The white-haired man nodded and glided across the room to the table. “Can I help you, Mr. Garrett?”

  “Yes, Gunn. Breakfast for my two sweet angels.” He winked across the table to Ellen, and reached to his side to ruffle Allen’s hair. “And anything else that Mrs. Piedmont and Mrs. Evans want.”

  “Right away, sir.” Mr. Gunn bowed and moved off.

  “What about Theophilus Gunn?” Josephine whispered as the gentleman walked away. “He’s getting up in years and could use a wife.”

  Charlie shook his head and chuckled.

  Virginia laughed outright. “Mr. Gunn is far too long in the tooth for any of the young ladies of Hurst Home. Besides, to hear Charlie tell it, he’s married to his job.”

  “Best hotel manager Wyoming has ever seen,” Charlie agreed. “And Virginia is right. We need to think younger. What young man in Haskell do we know who needs a bride?”

  “And who is mature and kind enough to treat a woman who has been through the wringer with the care she deserves?” Josephine added.

  The three of them sat back in silence, mulling over the question. Charlie rubbed his chin, studying his babies. They were too young by ages to even think about marriage, as were his two older children, but he still put himself in the position of the father of a daughter in need of a mate. Which young men in town would he most trust with a tender heart?

  One of Mr. Gunn’s waitresses returned with a breakfast tray, laying all manner of delicacies out for them as Gunn stood to the side, watching and waiting. Children and grown-ups alike dove in. It was easier to think on a full stomach.

  “You know who I have wanted to find a good woman and settle down for years?” Virginia began as the last of the cream tarts and bacon was devoured.

  “Who?” Charlie dabbed his mouth, then put down his napkin, ready for business.

  Virginia hesitated before saying, “My nephew, Franklin.”

  A wave of uncertain excitement swept over the table. Franklin Haskell. Yes. He was Howard Haskell’s son, not to mention Howard’s right-hand man on the ranch. Franklin more or less ran things, now that Howard’s interests had turned to building a unique town and helping it to thrive. But all Charlie really knew about Franklin was that he was quiet, serious, and a cripple.

  “You know, Franklin could use a wife,” Josephine agreed.

  “Mmm.” Virginia nodded, smoothing a hand across Allen’s head as he rested against her chest and closed his eyes for a nap. “But will he see things that way?”

  “He’s close to thirty now,” Josephine reasoned. “I know he’ll argue he’s been doing well on his own since Gideon Faraday constructed those braces for him, but there’s something so sad about him, so haunted.”

  “There is,” Virginia agreed. “And I know what it is. You weren’t here when he had that accident that crushed and sliced up his legs. I was. He won’t let it go.”

  “But that was ten…eleven years ago,” Charlie said. “Surely he can move on by now.”

  Virginia let out a breath. “Franklin is tricky. He hasn’t been the same since that accident. There’s more going on in his head than he lets on, and I don’t think all of it is good.”

  “And you think a wife would help?” Charlie asked.

  “A very special wife, yes.” Virginia nodded, then tilted her head to the side in thought. “She would have to be an exceptional woman, though—patient, kind, strong. We would need to ask Mrs. Breashears to send us the very best she has.”

  “I think that could be arranged.” Charlie nodded.

  “That settles it, then.” Josephine let Ellen wiggle down from her lap and cross around the table to her father. “Franklin will get the first and best wife.”

  Charlie scooped Ellen into his arms. “If he agrees.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Virginia said. “We’ll have to ask him.”

  Three hours later, the twins safe at home with Muriel Chance watching them, Charlie, Virginia, and Josephine rode through the gates of Paradise Ranch. The ranch was only a short drive from town. Howard was a man of vision and had planned the town and the ranch so that they could grow together over the years. Right now, the town was two miles away from the ranch’s property line, with a neighborhood of houses under construction midway between the two. Howard’s house was set a mile into the ranch, Virginia’s another mile further on. A bunkhouse and several outbuildings were clustered close to each of the big houses to provide for the two teams of ranch hands that worked—sometimes together, sometimes in friendly competition—to maintain the herd.

  Franklin’s house was midway between Howard’s and Virginia’s, separated on either side by grassland and a stream. Howard had argued for weeks about his son building a house so far from anyone else, but Franklin was stubborn. Charlie had to admit as he pulled his wagon to a stop in the yard that Franklin had an eye for placement. Separated though is house was, it was surrounded by beauty, calm, and quiet.

  “Franklin,” Virginia marched ahead as Charlie helped Josephine down from the wagon. “Are you home?”

  The front door of Franklin’s house and the windows were open to let in the spring breeze. Franklin was already on his way out to the porch as Charlie and the women approached. He moved slowly, walking onto the porch with stilted steps. The braces Gideon had constructed fit firmly over his calves with iron bands, had hinges by his knees, and clamped around his thighs to give him support. Even with that, he gripped the doorframe, and then the porch railing, as he came out to greet his visitors.

  “Aunt Ginny.” He nodded to Virginia without smiling. “Mrs. Evans, Mr. Garrett. What can I do for you?”

  Serious to the bone. Charlie’s heart went out to the young man. The weight Franklin carried on his shoulders was all but visible.

  “Franklin, we’ve come with a proposition for you,” Charlie began. More than ever, he wanted this to work out for the young man. Everyone deserved a little joy in their life, no matter what their past. His own dear Olivia had taught him that ten years ago, and continued to teach him every day.

  “Oh?” As Charlie, Virginia, and Josephine reached the porch, Franklin gestured to the bench and chairs. “What proposition?”

  Normally Charlie would have remained standing, but clearly Franklin was uncomfortable. All four of them took seats and got down to business.

  “I’ve told you about Hurst Home, haven’t I?” Charlie began.

  “It’s that wonderful home for women who have been battered or are in danger,” Josephine rushed on.

  Franklin frowned, nodding. “In Nashville, right?”

  “That’s it,” Charlie said.

  “We want to start bringing some of those unfortunate young women out to Haskell, to marry men here,” Virginia burst. Her eyes glowed with excitement.

  Franklin paused, his frown shifting to consideration. “Sounds like a grand idea to me.”

  “Good, we
hoped you’d think so.” Josephine smiled and sat straighter.

  “Because we’d like to start by finding a bride for you,” Virginia finished her friend’s thought.

  Charlie cringed inwardly. That wasn’t how he would have proceeded. Franklin looked as stunned as Charlie imagined he would be if he were in that position.

  “You want to send away for a woman to be my wife,” he said, shifting his baffled look from Josephine to Virginia and back.

  The two women exchanged knowing grins, then said in unison, “Yes.”

  Silence. Charlie debated stepping in and calling the whole experiment off.

  At last, Franklin drew in a long breath and shook his head. “I don’t know. What woman in her right mind would want to be saddled with a…” He closed his mouth and swallowed, back going stiff. “With me?”

  More awkward silence, then Virginia said, “You’re looking at this all wrong, Franklin, I can tell.”

  Franklin set his jaw and fixed his aunt with a challenging look. “How am I looking at it?”

  “I know you, my boy. I’ve known you my whole life,” Virginia went on. “You’re thinking that it would be a curse to trap a nice girl with a man who can’t walk or run or gad about, like other men.”

  Franklin blinked. “Well, it would.”

  Virginia shook her head and brushed his protest aside with a wave. “First of all, that’s bull—that’s nonsense.” Charlie grinned at Virginia’s typical, unladylike speech. “Second of all, it’s selfish.”

  “Selfish?” Franklin tensed further, the muscles of his broad shoulders rippling as if Virginia had hit a nerve.

  “Selfish,” Virginia repeated. “Look at things from the poor girls in that home’s point of view. Their lives have been hard, horrible, even. They’ve been in far more danger than you or I ever have, endured more than, yes, even you.”

  Franklin let out a breath and scratched his thigh under the edge of the brace he wore. “Maybe.”