Montana Bride

“You must be cold clean through.” He pulled off his gloves. “I should have noticed earlier you didn’t have any mittens.”

They had worn out beyond repair, but she didn’t tell him that. In the bright light he must be able to see the patches on her clothes and shoes. He must be able to see what she was, and still the kindness in his gaze remained.

His boots knelled on the planks as he paced closer. She shivered when he drew near. The tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood straight up and tingled. Air caught in her chest as he gently slid his gloves on her hands. Way too large, they dwarfed her, but the sheepskin lining was toasty warm from his heat.

“Are you ready to get married?” he asked.

Too choked up to answer, she managed a single nod. On jelly knees and shaking like a leaf, she followed the minister to the front of the church with Austin at her side.

Chapter Two

“In sickness and health until death do you part?” Reverend Lane paused, allowing silence to fall in the small church. The gust of wind outside battered the eaves, sending a chilling breeze through the already unheated building.

This wasn’t the way Austin had envisioned the ceremony, but the train had been late and he was a man of his word. He had promised Willa he would marry her the moment she stepped foot off the train, to provide for her and her unborn child and to keep her safe from harm of any kind. He wanted to show her the man he was. He unclamped his teeth, afraid they would chatter, but managed to speak in a strong clear voice that carried the power of his conviction. “I do.”

Her hand, so small within his much larger one, trembled even harder. The poor woman, hardly more than a girl, with her blue doe eyes and soft-faced vulnerability. Several rich molasses locks had escaped her chignon to curl around her cheeks and chin. Her high cheekbones, small sloping nose and dainty chin must have been carved by angels they were so flawless.

It was her unassuming beauty and soulful eyes he liked the most, but he had not expected a woman so comely or, he hated to admit, one so young. He was in his late twenties and she could not be eighteen. Age was not something he had asked about in their brief correspondence.

“I pronounce you man and wife.” The reverend said the words with a hint of gravity and sympathy that rang like a bell tolling in the quiet sanctuary. “You may kiss the bride.”

Tension shot through the small hand resting in his. He felt the cool wedding band on her finger when she jerked away. She gazed up at him, vulnerable and so small, half his size. Such a petite slip of a girl, and he must seem like a giant to her. He felt like one as he leaned in, feeling the air snap with tension. Uncertainty passed across her face. He recognized the plea in her big beautiful eyes, the look he’d come to know so well as a blacksmith. He worked with horses all day long, animals subject to a man’s whims of temper and thoughtlessness.

A thousand vows rose into his heart, ones he could not find the words to say. He hoped he had the chance to show her every one so she would no longer be afraid. So in time she could see some promises were made to be kept. Some anxiety slipped from her face as she watched him tilt to the side, away from her rosebud lips that were so tempting. But there would be time later for that.

Her silk tendrils brushed his forehead as he dropped a kiss against her satin cheek. Unprepared for the tenderness that swept through him, he jerkily straightened and settled his hand protectively against her shoulder blade.

“We should get home where it’s warm. You too, Bill.” He could feel Willa trembling through her worn, wool coat. “Thanks for staying late for us.”

“Drive safely,” the reverend called out, his words echoing in the high ceiling as Austin opened the door and Willa disappeared ahead of him into the blinding night.

Was it disappointment that dug into him as she forged ahead without him? He rubbed at the painful spot on his chest and followed her tracks through the deepening snow. He caught up to her at the buggy and seized her forearm.

“Thought you could get away from me, did you?” He helped her onto the seat, making sure there was no hint of his disappointment in his words, just the warmth he wanted her to believe in. “The drive home isn’t far. Are you warm enough? I can give you my coat.”

“Oh, no.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Thank you, but I’m used to the cold.”

“Fine.” He patted her arm once before stepping away to remove the horse’s blanket. The wind disbursed the warm impression he left, and she felt alone. She was not used to sitting in a buggy while a man worked.

No, not just any man, she thought. Her husband. She gulped, drawing in air to stay the kick of panic in her chest. She had given him back his gloves in the middle of the ceremony, when he had produced a smooth gold band for her to wear. The ring felt foreign on her finger and cold against her skin. Jed had not been able to afford a wedding ring, although he had been able to find the money to buy bottles of whiskey.

She had married Jed straight off the stagecoach. He had met her at the stop, treated her to a fine lunch at the small town’s only hotel. He had been on his best behavior then, too, behavior that had covered his true self like a fine, fancy veneer. She’d learned the hard way men showed you what they wanted you to see. She huddled into herself as the spikes of cold on the wind became bitter.

Austin’s low baritone mumbled, his words indistinguishable as he uncovered the horse. He was nothing more than an impression in the dark. She caught a glimpse of the crown of his hat, the solid line of his shoulder and the blur of movement as he folded the blanket. This inclement night was vastly different from the hot summer day Jed had tossed her trunk into his battered wagon and driven her across the vast, lonely Dakota prairie, yet she recalled it vividly. The following two years had gone by slowly and unhappily. She lifted her chin, determined to handle this marriage differently. At least she knew the truth. She would be realistic. She no longer believed in a man’s good side or in the fiction of romantic love.

“Calvin is none too happy with me.” With the hint of a wry grin, Austin climbed up and settled onto the cushioned seat beside her. “I’ve spoiled him.”

“Have you?” She wished she could be the girl she once was, one who could look at a man hoping to see the good. She could tell Austin wanted her to see he took fine care of his horse, but the way he sat so straight, shoulders back, reminded her of Jed’s self-pride that had known no bounds. Her insides clenched tight. Please, let him not be like that. Austin seemed kindly and pleasant, but how deep did those qualities go?

Her heart stammered as if she were standing on the crumbling edge of a very high cliff with no way to save herself from falling. She was about to find out. She was about to discover exactly how her life would go. As the horse pulled them down the snowy lane, she fought the urge to leap out and stop the future from happening.

But it was too late. She was bound to this man for as long as they both drew breath. She had to be prepared for silent evenings made longer with a man’s displeasure at her and for long days of physical work.

Night had fallen, making the trees towering on either side of the road look like frightening creatures of the night. A wolf’s howl called eerily through the forest, reminding her they were in wild, high mountain country. Every passing mile reminded her how much her life had changed only to stay the same. She was still a wife, she still carried a child she might not be able to love and she was still convenient to a man who had chosen a mail-order bride because he could find no other.

“Calvin isn’t used to standing in the cold,” Austin explained. “He’s never been up this late before. He’s old and set in his ways.”

She heard the note of humor in his voice but did not smile. She curled her hands into fists. “Have you had him for a long time?”

“Since the day he was born. He’s like a brother to me.”

“A brother?”

“A horse brother, then.” Austin’s chuckle rumbled deep, a sound that tried to reach out to touch her heart.

She inched back on the seat, needing distance. Shyness washed over her. She felt small, and he was so big. The dark night world surrounding her echoed with a vastness she could not see or measure. She did not like being vulnerable. How much farther to the cabin?

“Sometimes you meet someone and you just know.” Austin’s conversational tone held a note of strain. Perhaps he was nervous, too. “That’s the way it was for Calvin and me. Has that ever happened to you?”

“No.” The word sounded abrupt, and she winced. She was stressed, that was all, and she hated that it showed. “I was close to my mother and grandmother.”

“Was?” His deep voice gentled, asking for more information. He turned toward her with a hint of concern in his posture as he loomed on the seat next to her.

“Scarlet fever.” She swallowed hard, holding back the memories of being fifteen and their sole caretaker. “We all fell ill, but my case was light compared to theirs. My mother went first. It was—” Words failed her. She didn’t know how to begin the story about her mother.

“I lost my ma, too.” He swallowed hard and although the night hid him fully from her sight, she could feel the essence of him and the strength of his heart. “It was like the sun going out. Like morning without a dawn to light it.”

“Yes.” Her jaw dropped, surprised this giant of a man understood. Not that she dared believe him too much. “Gran never recovered. She said she’d lost everything.”

“Everything? What about you? She still had her granddaughter.”

“Two days later, she was gone, too.” How did she explain? The circumstances of her birth and her existence were a shame to her grandmother and a tragedy for her mother. She laid her hand on her stomach, thinking of the babe within. Life was complicated and love was a myth.

“We’re here.” Austin’s announcement broke through her thoughts, scattering them on the wind like snowflakes. “This is home.”

“Home.” Relief ebbed into her. She saw nothing but a slope of a roofline against the iridescent black sky. A good strong roof, by her guess, one that would keep out the wet and the cold. Sturdy walls that would provide the shelter her baby would need.

“You wait for me to help you.” He sounded stern, but the harsh notes did not ring true. He hopped to the ground, hurrying around the buggy to offer her his hand. Such a strong hand. He’d swooped her off the seat and onto her feet before she could blink.

“It’s not much,” he said, grabbing her satchel. “I’ve already spoken to Mrs. Pole over at the mercantile to add your name to my account. You can buy all the frills and fabric you want to make curtains and such. I remember how my ma was, and my sisters are always stitching something pretty for their homes.”

“You have sisters?”

“It’s slick here.” His boots thudded on wood steps. “I’ll have to get this shoveled off. Yep, I have one sister and two sisters-in-law, which means I have two brothers as well.”

“And they live in the area?” Her soft alto was calm and carefully controlled, but he heard the curiosity.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” He kicked the snow from his boots against the siding and opened the door. The scent of freshly cut wood met him. “You would have thought having so many ladies around me would have civilized me better.”