Clive sent me a mulish look, his dark eyes full of skepticism before he flicked the reins, getting the horses started down the lane. It felt odd to be on the wagon rather than horseback, but it made the most sense. We had no way of knowing whether or not our bride could ride, and she’d likely be arriving with luggage. It would also be easier to talk to her and get to know her a bit better if she was seated between us for the ride home.
I knew part of Clive’s worry came from the unknown. Literally, everything about Miss Sassy McCloud was unknown to us except her name. I found it exciting—Clive didn’t.
If she met the requirements of the ad, we’d both be happy.
Owners of the NorthWest Ranch in Bridgewater, Montana Territory, desire a wife, age eighteen to twenty-five, pretty, healthy, and able to work hard. In return, wife will be cherished and protected. No portrait necessary.
Neither of us had a preference for weight, height, hair color, eye color… we liked women. Period. Even though Clive could never be described as easygoing, I figured we could make it work with any woman sent our way if she was of the right age and constitution.
Clive
* * *
William was getting that dreamy-eyed look on his face again, and I didn’t know whether to sigh or smack him on the back of his fool head to knock some sense into him. The boy was a romantic and an optimist, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but could grate on me when he ignored the realities of a situation.
Like right now.
He truly thought we were going to walk up to the train station in Travis Point and find a pretty little thing waiting for us, and we’d both fall head over heels in love with her and she with us. Then we’d get hitched in town, take her to the hotel, and pleasure her all night long.
Well… that last part didn’t sound so bad, but I had no illusions about life. More likely, we were about to meet a woman with a face like a horse and the temperament of a shrew. My cock might not be able to even rise to the occasion. Sure, the other women who had come west to marry the men of Bridgewater had been fine, some of them even real pretty, but they’d had better ads.
It had taken so long for anyone to even answer William’s ad, I’d begun to think no one would. I’d even been a little disappointed, although I would never tell him. I didn’t think the ad had been a good idea from the beginning, but I hadn’t had a better one.
The wagon rumbled along the road, passing the fields of cattle and crops as we sat in silence. I could tell he had something on his mind, but I had no inclination to ask him what. He’d speak up when he was ready.
“Don’t you want a wife?” William finally asked, about a mile outside of town. He sounded a little worried. Considering the way I’d been acting, I guess I couldn’t blame him.
I did want a wife, but one I’d picked out—we’d picked out together. Marrying the only woman to answer the mail-order ad seemed like a recipe for disaster, but meeting a woman around here we’d want to marry, who wasn’t already claimed, would require as much luck as getting a good woman from an ad.
“I’m sure I’ll feel better when I meet her,” I said, which was about as cheery as I could make myself. I knew I would be much improved, even if she was a nightmare, because at least then I’d know. Not knowing anything was like an itch in the center of my back I couldn’t reach.
The telegram she’d sent had been short and to the point, which I would have appreciated any other time. She was coming from New York and claimed to be a hard worker, healthy, and was considered comely. Whether any of that would be true remained to be seen. Still, my heart began to beat a little faster as the wagon came closer and closer to town.
Our woman, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. Our wife.
A thread of excitement trickled through me, even as I tried to push it back. There was no point in getting excited until we saw her… and she saw us. Hell, she might not even want us once she realized it was an ‘us.’
William thought his ad had made it clear we were looking for a wife, but outside of this territory, who would believe such a thing?
Sassy
* * *
I spre
ad the ad and the last telegram over my lap, re-reading the small scrap of paper over and over again.
Will meet you at the train station in Travis Point. Will have flowers for you. – William
Knowing how to look for him made me feel a bit easier, but only a bit. I glanced out the window to the golden fields rolling by. So open and empty, they went on for miles, making me feel even smaller than I already did. How could someone hide when there was nothing to hide behind? It was nothing like London or New York City, nothing like anything I’d ever known. I had to hope the difference and the many miles would be enough to keep me safe.
Heavy boots tramped down the train aisle, and I flinched, ducking my head as the man passed by my bench seat. He wouldn’t have been able to see anything, anyway. I had tucked myself between the window and a large woman who was both taller and broader, and I was still wearing my bonnet to hide my face.
My fingers shook as I looked down at the ad again.
Protected.
That had been the word I’d responded to. I wanted to feel safe again, even if I had to cross an ocean and go all the way to the Montana Territory to do it.