A Bride for Blake Read online

  “I brought a party dress with me.” Constance shared. “Why can’t I wear that?”

  “Because my dear, if we have a party, the other women in town might buy a dress. The seamstress will never make two similar dresses. I intend to buy the absolute best this woman can make.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a petite woman with raven black hair and a welcoming smile. “Good morning, ladies. How may I help you?”

  “We need the best party dress you can make for this young lady,” Aunt Hortense said. “I want it to be special and not like any other you’ve made or will make.”

  “I believe I can accommodate you. With my last fabric order, the company included two free patterns to hopefully have me order more of the newest patterns, I think. The women here in town would never want anything quite that elaborate, and I put them away. Let me get them, and you can see if you like either one,” the seamstress said. “Oh, and I’m Missus Bedwell, but you may call me Florence.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Constance said, and Aunt Hortense merely nodded.

  Florence brought the two patterns and lay them on a small table. “Please sit and look at the patterns. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Aunt Hortense said. “We are in a bit of a hurry.”

  Florence smiled and let the two ladies discuss the patterns. Constance liked the elaborate gown, but Aunt Hortense convinced her it was too fancy for a small ranch town and convinced her by saying she would look stunning in either dress.

  Aunt Hortense inquired about fabric, and Florence said she had red satin she had ordered the previous fall in hopes of selling Christmas dresses. But satin wasn’t at all sensible on a ranch or in town.

  That suited Aunt Hortense perfectly, and she and Constance ordered the simple gown in the red fabric.

  After taking Constance’s measurements and assuring Aunt Hortense that she could have the gown ready in a week in time for the party at the Montgomery ranch, Florence bid the two ladies good day as they headed for the café.

  Chapter 11

  The café door opened, and a young cowboy entered, looked around, and strode to Aunt Hortense’s table.

  “Hello, Missus Montgomery, Miss Constance, I’m here to drive you back to the ranch whenever you’re ready,” the friendly young man stated.

  “Where’s Ray,” Aunt Hortense asked.

  “He had a job to finish at the ranch and sent me.”

  “I suppose that is acceptable, but you are not allowed to refer to Constance as anything but Miss Bradshaw,” Aunt Hortense corrected.

  “Yes, Ma’am, sorry, Ma’am,” the young cowboy said, taking a step away from the table. “Um, are those your packages?”

  Aunt Hortense nodded.

  “I’ll put them in the carriage for you and wait until you’re ready to leave. Please take your time,” the cowboy stammered as he grabbed the packages and hurried to the door.

  Aunt Hortense told Constance, “We should leave. I am expecting a telegram, and then we’ll head back to the ranch.”

  “Why?” asked Constance. “It’s dusty, lonely, and not at all like the country home I expected. Blake’s married. He won’t leave his wife for me and move back East with us.”

  Aunt Hortense’s smile would curdle milk, and she promised, “He will leave her and marry you. He won’t have a choice. I am going to ruin his reputation, if needed, by exposing what type of woman he married to the people of this town. He won’t have a choice but to leave with us. Besides, he wants the inheritance I will leave him.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Constance answered and followed Aunt Hortense to the waiting carriage.

  After a quick stop at the telegraph office, the carriage made its way back to the ranch with Constance muttering and sneezing, and Aunt Hortense complaining about the quality of the road with each bump she felt.

  Sarah did not meet them when they arrived, and Aunt Hortense complained that this was no way to greet returning guests.

  “I can carry your packages inside,” the young cowboy offered.

  Aunt Hortense nodded, and she and Constance entered the house. Aunt Hortense called for Sarah, who appeared from the kitchen.

  The young cowboy stood in the doorway with a stack of parcels in his arms.

  Sarah said, “Cole, just place them on the settee. The ladies can find what they need and take them to their rooms. I know you have work to do.”

  Cole nodded, offering a grateful smile before depositing the parcels and hurrying back out the door.

  “What about our things?” Aunt Hortense asked. “Surely we can’t be expected to put them away.”

  “Surely you can,” Sarah retorted. “I’m going out back to do some gardening.”

  As Sarah turned to leave, Aunt Hortense asked where Eliza and Blake were.

  “On a picnic,” Sarah answered before leaving the room.

  Blake helped Eliza from the wagon and handed her a blanket as he grabbed the picnic basket. “Let’s go sit under the shade of the tree by the stream. I like to come here sometimes and just sit and think.”

  “It’s lovely here, “Eliza said. “I can see why you like to come here.”

  Blake spread out the blanket and placed the picnic basket in the middle. He sat on one side, motioning for Eliza to sit on the other.

  “I also like to come here and take advantage of the cold water in the summer when the days are sweltering. The stream is only a few feet deep, and it’s not good for swimming, but on a hot day, you can jump in and cool off quickly.”

  Eliza looked down at her hands and answered, “I don’t think I could do that. You have a lot of men working on the ranch. How can this area be private?”

  Blake smiled. “All the men know when someone is heading towards the stream, and they respect their privacy. Sarah and Jack come here quite often, and I think you and Sarah could also come here and enjoy the water.”

  “Maybe,” Eliza said.

  Blake stared out at the stream and said, “May I ask you a question. It’s a bit personal.”

  “You can ask,” Eliza responded, “but if I think it’s too personal, I won’t answer.”

  “That’s a deal,” said Blake. “When you were living in St. Louis, did you plan on being a nanny for the foreseeable future, or did you have other plans such as marriage?”

  “I thought about marriage, but when you spend seven days in someone’s home with little interaction with anyone other than the family members, it’s hard to meet people and even harder to begin a courtship.”

  “I can understand that,” Blake said. “I found the same problem here. There are at least five times more men than women in town, and I never met anyone that I wanted to court. I suppose that sounds a bit egotistical, but I had an idea of the kind of woman I wanted to find. If I had met you in St. Louis, I would certainly have asked you to supper and possibly even begin a courtship.”

  Eliza blushed, and a small smile spread across your face. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”

  Blake was silent for a few moments before he said, “Well, we are legally married, and I do like you. Would it sound a bit far-fetched if I ask you if I could court you now? The worst thing that could happen is that you would find that you dislike me and plan to leave sooner than you expect.”

  Eliza looked at Blake, her cheeks still pink from the blush, and said, “I like you too, and yes, I think courting my husband might be enjoyable.”

  Blake’s smile lit up his entire face and eyes. He opened the picnic basket and said, “Was the picnic your idea or Sarah’s. She’s a bit of a romantic.”

  “It was Sarah’s,” Eliza admitted. “She thought we might enjoy a peaceful afternoon. I think she wanted to keep me away from your aunt’s prodding questions when she returns from town. I don’t understand why she’s so curious about me.”

  “It does seem as if she asks more questions than just having an interest in my new bride,” Blake agreed. “I have never been able to understand my aunt.
Let’s forget about her now and enjoy our lunch.”

  Eliza answered, “I am hungry.”

  Blake handed Eliza a bowl of fried chicken and a second of potato salad. He said, “We also have pickles, some fruit, and two large slices of pie.”

  Eliza laughed. “Did Sarah think we would get lost and starve?”

  “No, but I think she wants to be sure we have enough for the lunch, a snack, and even supper if we decide to stay out and enjoy the day,” Blake said before biting into a chicken leg.

  Eliza was amazed at the amount of food Blake ate. “Are you always hungry?” she asked.

  “I think it’s the clean, fresh air. My mother always said I could eat my weight in food each day,” Blake laughed, and then a sadness crossed his face.

  “I’m sorry they aren’t here to see how successful you’ve become,” Eliza said.

  “It’s not really my success alone. I inherited the ranch and my father’s estate that he had inherited from my grandfather. My parents were happy with the simpler life they found here. I wanted to live my dream, and I built the house and bought more cattle and horses. I’ve been blessed with success with all of it,” Blake confessed. “I had a good start.”

  “But you worked hard, Sarah told me about how hard you work. I think she was trying to assure me I would have a good life here, too,” Eliza shared.

  “I think it has more to do with living life to its fullest. My parents caught some sort of fever and were gone within days of each other. I buried them here on the ranch. I never caught what they had, and for a time, I felt guilty and then fortunate that I didn’t catch the fever. It was then I decided to build the dream I had as a boy,” Blake explained.

  Eliza reached over and took Blake’s hand. “I’m sorry you lost them both close together. I think they’d be proud of what you’ve done here.”

  “Thanks, but let’s talk about happy things. Let’s wade in the stream.”

  Eliza bit her lip, and she tried not to look at Blake until he lifted her chin with his finger.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No,” Eliza said. “I haven’t done that since I was a child. I suppose it would be all right and proper to go barefoot in the stream with my husband.”

  “Of course, it would,” Blake said and began to pull off his boots.

  They spent the next few hours talking and laughing, sharing stories of their childhood, and what the future might hold. Getting to know each other better with each story shared seemed to draw them closer.

  Blake looked up at the sun beginning to set and said, “We should get back before someone wonders where we are. At least I don’t have to worry that someone will be waiting for you with a rifle in their hands, asking why I kept you out so long.”

  Sadness crept into Eliza’s eyes. “No one has ever truly cared about when I would return home.”

  Blake took her hand and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “As long as you live here, there will always be someone who cares.”

  When they arrived back at the house, Aunt Hortense and Constance were sitting on the back porch. Aunt Hortense handed Blake a list of people she wanted to invite to the social gathering she was planning.

  “I told you we don’t have the room for all these people,” Blake said.

  “I spoke to Sarah, and she said she would make a buffet, and some could eat inside, and she said there is a table you place on the back porch for warm summer suppers. It would be perfect. The important thing is for us to meet the important people in town,” Aunt Hortense said.

  “Why?” Blake asked suspicion in his voice.

  “Because it is the proper thing to do,” Aunt Hortense answered. “Constance and I will write out the invitations tomorrow. Can you spare a man to deliver them in town?”

  Blake blew out a breath and nodded, “I suppose.”

  Chapter 12

  Constance sat on the back porch the way she had each morning for the past ten days watching Eliza and Blake in the corral. She mumbled to herself about the unfairness of Blake not having a sidesaddle, and she refused to ride astride even if she were to buy one of those unflattering riding skirts.

  The back door opened, and Aunt Hortense walked onto the porch and sat next to Constance. “Don’t look so unhappy. I have the solution to all our problems right here.”

  Aunt Hortense waved the letter she was holding in her hand, and Constance scrunched her brow.

  “How is a letter going to help? I want to go home. This place is boring, and Blake acts as if I’m not even here,” Constance complained.

  “You don’t understand, my dear. When we went to the seamstress shop, I sent a telegram. Remember? I telegraphed my lawyer in New York to ask him to find a detective in St. Louis to investigate Eliza. This should be the report,” Aunt Hortense whispered.

  Constance sat up straighter and leaned closer. “Do tell, what does the detective have to say?”

  “I don’t know. One of the hands dropped it off just now. You must go into town to pick up the mail. We are fortunate someone did today, or we might not have received this in time.”

  “In time for what?” Constance asked.

  “The party this evening. Everyone important from town except the pastor and his wife will be here when I announce what a terrible choice Blake has made. That woman could not have lived the quiet life as a nanny the way she claims. I hold the proof of what type of woman she is in my hand,” Aunt Hortense smiled another evil smile, and Constance returned one in kind.

  Aunt Hortense read the letter and scowled. “This isn’t quite what I expected, but every life has a bit more wickedness than people see. I can elaborate a bit, and soon Eliza will run back to St. Louis or anywhere as long as she doesn’t have to face what the town will think of her.”

  “And Blake will be mine,” Constance said.

  “Yes, dear, he will.”

  Constance’s smile broadened across her face until she glanced toward the corral and saw Blake give Eliza a quick kiss. Constance’s fists tightened, and she began mumbling to herself again.

  Eliza slipped her new dress over her head, and Sarah helped her smooth it down and button the long row of buttons down the back.

  “This dress is lovely. Florence did a wonderful job. The blue is perfect with your hair, and the small flowers and leaves bring out the green in your eyes,” Sarah said.

  “Thank you. I love the ruffles and lace she added. I wasn’t sure how a soft cotton dress could turn into a beautiful party gown. Do you think I’ll look plain next to Constance and the red satin gown Florence made for her?” Eliza asked.

  “I think you will stand out as the lovely wife of our host. You heard Florence say no one in town was interested in that red satin last Christmas, and she’s going to use what is left of the bolt to make ribbon decorations for this Christmas. Constance will be overdressed,” Sarah assured Eliza.

  Eliza sighed. “I hope you’re right. I have a feeling she and Aunt Hortense are up to something. Aunt Hortense was almost friendly this afternoon, and she kept smiling at me.”

  “Don’t let it worry you. You’ll be among friends tonight,” Sarah promised. “And I’ll be there, too. Between us, we won’t allow them to ruin the evening.”

  “Thank you,” Eliza said, turning and hugging Sarah. “You have become a dear friend, too. I still think you and Jack should have supper with us.”

  “I prefer to stay in the kitchen and serve the food. It won’t be hard. I have the buffet table set up along one wall of the dining room. I’ll just place all the plates and food there, and people can eat what they want. Jack said he’s going to stay at our house this evening.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Eliza answered. “I’d like to hide, too.”

  “You’ll be all right. The guests already know who you are. It’s Blake’s aunt and Constance that are trying to impress people. Just be your delightful self,” Sarah suggested.

  “I never thought of myself as delightful,” Eliza said, giggling.


  Eliza stopped giggling and bit her lower lip. “I still don’t understand Aunt Hortense’s guest list. I know inviting the judge and the mayor is important, but why the sheriff?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Our mayor also owns the mercantile and his wife is a terrible gossip. Never say anything to Ethel Wilbey that you don’t want everyone in town to know the next day.”

  “Perhaps,” Eliza said. “Aunt Hortense hopes Ethel will spread the word of what a wonderful party we had.”

  “We can only hope that’s all she wants to spread around town. I don’t trust that woman,” Sarah admitted.

  Eliza agreed. “I don’t either, and I worry about Constance. Lately, she spends more time reading, and she’s always looking around and talking to herself.”

  Sarah nodded. “Constance does act strange at times. Perhaps she misses her home and enjoys getting lost in her books.”

  A soft knock at the door stopped their conversation. When Sarah opened the door, she smiled. “Your wife is ready, and she looks lovely.”

  “She certainly does,” Blake said, offering Eliza his arm.

  They walked into the parlor and began greeting their guests as they arrived. Eliza knew the Wilbeys from the mercantile and had met the sheriff but had never met the aging Judge Grover. Blake introduced her and his aunt to the judge.

  “Where’s Constance,” Eliza asked Aunt Hortense.

  Aunt Hortense looked toward the stairs and said, “Here she is now.”

  Constance was a vision to behold in her red satin gown as she floated down the stairs and into the parlor.

  The sheriff, the only single man besides the judge, nearly tripped over his own feet as he walked toward Constance with his hand held out. “I’m Sheriff Conway, umm Dave Conway. Nice to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

  Constance smiled and allowed the sheriff a quick handshake before moving to Blake’s side.