Their Conquered Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 9) (Grace Goodwin)

“Very well. The Lord would approve of your dedication to your future wife.” The pastor frowned up at Ford, just to make sure my friend understood that he was a sinner. “But he would have preferred you had waited until the wedding night.”

Ford spun his hat in his hands and looked at the preacher’s feet. “I know. I’m sorry, but I want to make it right. I want to marry her right away. Today, right away, if it pleases the Lord. My Lizzie, she’s a good girl, sir. I want her to be right with the Lord.”

The preacher sighed and crossed his arms. “All right. Bring your bride to me, Mister… what’s your name?”

“Jenkins, sir. Ford Jenkins.”

I blinked, slowly, so I wouldn’t give away Ford’s lie.

The name got the preacher’s attention and he raised his eyebrow. “You related to Samuel and his boys?”

Ford looked dumbfounded, his eyes wide and innocent. “No, sir. I don’t know no Samuel. My daddy’s name was George. I’m from St. Louis. This here,” Ford pointed at me with his hat, “he’s my cousin, Logan Green. He sailed over from England to start a ranch with me. He’s gonna be my witness, sir.”

The preacher tilted his head, but obviously decided he was in full control. “All right. The church will require ten dollars to register the license due to the expediency and… delicate nature of the ceremony.”

I was about to choke the man for extortion but Ford just nodded his head and agreed like a schoolboy obeying the teacher. “Yes, sir. I’ll bring ten dollars to the ceremony.” Ford paused and looked down at the preacher with pleading eyes. “You won’t say nothing to embarrass my lady, will you? I don’t want that. I don’t want her to know I told you nothing. She’s a good girl, sir. On my word, she is.”

“Very well.” The preacher pulled a watch from some hidden internal pocket of his robes. “I’ll be wanting my lunch first. I’ll meet you here at two o’clock.”

Ford held out his hand and shook the man’s with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Thank you, preacher. We’ll be here.”

I tipped my hat and followed Ford out of the tiny chapel. A quick glance at my own timepiece made me frown. We had three hours to convince our bride to marry Ford and accept me as well.

Three hours.

Short of seducing the woman, I wasn’t sure how the hell we were going to pull this off.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

The soft knock on the door drew my attention and I hurried to answer it before the noise disturbed my sisters who napped on the bed. We had all bathed and done our best to refresh ourselves, but unlike my sisters, I had been unable to rest. Being here, in this town, hours away from marrying my intended made my stomach twist in knots. Worse, fantasies about the two cowboys I’d seen earlier danced behind my eyelids every single time I tried to rest.

I opened the door slowly, peeking around the edge. Dark green eyes met mine, and a smile so warm I forgot to breathe until the lack of air made me dizzy.

“Miss Lizzie?” The cowboy I’d seen earlier, lusted after really, took his hat from his head and placed it over his heart. His dark hair had a crease in it and I ached to brush it away with my fingers. “You are Elizabeth from Omaha, aren’t you?”

Unsure what to do, I opened the door a bit and stepped out into the hall, gently closing the door behind me. “Yes.” I tilted my head as the second man came into view, his dark eyes intensely focused on me as I tried to speak past the sudden lump in my throat.

The green-eyed man held out his hand, palm up and I stared at it like an idiot. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, Lizzie, but I’m honored to meet you at last. I’m Samuel Ford Jenkins, but my friends call me Ford.”

Oh, my Lord. My knees threatened to buckle right out from under me and I backed up against the door, holding onto the handle at the small of my back for support. “Oh!” I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be real. It was too incredible to be real.

But it was. His smile changed from friendly to that of a man interested in more than a passing hello and he studied me. I knew my face was flushed, my breasts heaving quickly beneath my dress as I struggled to get enough air into my lungs. He was stealing every bit of it from this small hall.

“I’m sorry I didn’t approach you properly when the stage arrived, but I was expecting you tomorrow, and well, you just surprised me, is all.”

I sighed in relief when he finally broke the lock he had on my gaze and turned to the dark-haired man behind him. “This is Logan. He’s my closest friend and is going to help me look after you.”

Logan stepped forward and held out his hand as well. Ford stepped back so they stood side by side, a wall of well-muscled male. His hand fell to his side and I realized I’d just been incredibly rude to my future husband.

Straightening my shoulders, I stood and placed my hand in Logan’s large palm. “How do you do?”

His hand closed over mine and I stilled as his thumb massaged the back of my hand, sending heat to pool low in my belly. “It’s a pleasure, Lizzie.”

A deep, low voice sent chills up my spine. My sisters were the only ones to call me Lizzie, but from these men, while it sounded odd, I liked it.

Ford cleared his throat and I forced myself to look away from the dark pools of Logan’s eyes. I shouldn’t even be looking at Logan; I should only have eyes for my intended. Pulling my hand from Logan’s gentle grip, I turned and looked up, way up, into Ford’s deep green eyes and said the first thing that came to mind. “I didn’t know your name was Ford. Why didn’t you tell me?”