Falling for the Bride (Brides of the West Series Book Twelve) Read online

  The room was large and welcoming with a rocked in fireplace, and a huge bear rug in front of it. Books lined one wall, a rocking chair looked inviting, a sofa faced the fireplace, upholstered in fine leather, and a big hound dog came up to her, sniffing. He howled for a just a second and she laughed.

  She bent down and the dog licked her in the face. She chuckled. "Oh, you're a beauty. And what a voice."

  Taken aback, Quint studied her silently for a moment. "Scout, stop that."

  The dog licked her one more time and walked off.

  "He's beautiful." She remarked standing up once more.

  "You like dogs?"

  "Yes, I do, very much. I get along well with animals." She smiled and whirled around." I can't believe I'm finally here. and I can't believe this place will be mine. I'm so thrilled."

  He stammered a minute. "Yeah, well, let's sit down and talk about that a little bit…"

  "About what, where is Nigel? I'd like to see him if you don't mind." She looked a little puzzled by his lack of movement.

  "Have you ever seen Nigel?"

  "Nigel, no…I guess that's why I'm so anxious."

  "Look the truth is, he's not here…"

  "I can see that, but where is he?" She questioned.

  "I'm sure he's at home…"

  "At home! But…" She whirled around and suddenly an Indian woman faced her, with long black braids, and a big knife in her hand. She gasped, and caught her chest, but she didn't scream as Quint expected.

  "Want supper…?" The Indian woman asked.

  "Yeah, got anything Dancing Tree?"

  "Hmm…yes, beans and cornbread.

  "That'll do…" Quint told her.

  Priscilla stared at the Indian woman, her eyes wide with expectations. After the initial shock, she realized this woman had to be his cook.

  "Don't worry she's friendly. She's a Cherokee."

  "She speaks English."

  "Sure most of the Indians around here do."

  "I had no idea. There are very few Indians in Philadelphia, either that or I just never ran into them there."

  By now Priscilla was staring at him for answers.

  "Nigel is at home. But…who's home is this?" She quipped.

  "Mine!" He said matter-of-factly.

  That took a full minute to sink in.

  "Yours? I somehow imagine you'd be living in a bunkhouse, isn't that what they are called?"

  "That's what they call them, but I don't work for Nigel. Never did. Sorry I misled you on that."

  "Mis-misled me." she gasped. "I wouldn't call that misleading; I'd call it lying." Her voice took on a temper. "Can't we go on to see Nigel tonight?" She asked, a strange feeling assailing her suddenly.

  "Nope…afraid not."

  "I don't understand." She began sinking onto the sofa.

  "Sit down, I'll get us some coffee. We need to talk a bit." He said.

  "I don't want to sit down; I want to know why you brought me here in the first place." The warmth from her voice had faded, replaced by what sounded curiously like hysteria building.

  "I don't work for Nigel…." He smiled impishly.

  "Then…."

  "It's simple. I'm kidnapping you." He told her and walked off toward what she thought might be the kitchen.

  "Kidnapping!" She shouted. "But you can't do that…" she protested trying to follow him.

  She whirled around the place, realized things were not as they seemed any longer.

  He came back a few minutes later. "Have you calmed down yet?"

  "Calmed down? No, I want to go to Nigel's."

  "Sorry, can't do that."

  "You're holding me for ransom?" She gasped.

  "In a way, I guess you could say that." He smiled.

  "My God, and I trusted you." She twisted on the sofa to look at him.

  "That was your first mistake." He smiled again.

  Despite the fact that she should have been scared out of her mind, something instinctively told her that he wasn't going to hurt her. But what did he want?

  "I don't understand what is going on. Would you explain yourself, sir?"

  "Of course you don't. You just walked right into this mess. And you blindly thought I was a hand and going to take you to Nigel…" The way he said his name had her frowning. "You didn't ask, you assumed. Big mistake. When you are a stranger, you don't assume anything."

  "You say his name as though you don't like him."

  "Now that's the truth of the matter right there. I don't like him. And he doesn't like me."

  "Well why?" She asked.

  He nodded, "It's a long story."

  "You want to explain yourself?" She asked staring as he handed her a cup of steaming hot coffee.

  She held it and stared into the hot liquid. "What…do you intend doing with me?" She swallowed hard, but raised her head proudly.

  "Not a thing. I got one rule, don't run off, don't try to run off, and I won't do a thing to you."

  She stared at him now, realizing for the first time that he was undeniably attractive. She hadn't meant to find him attractive. She hadn't meant to even look at him like that, but he was the kind of man that grew on a person, without their knowledge.

  "Are you going to tie me up?" She asked.

  "No ma'am, not unless you force me to. You got the run of my place, as long as you don't try to leave. You can eat, sleep and do the things a woman usually does. But you can't leave. And I certainly won't harm a hair on your head."

  "What are you planning on getting out of this?"

  He sighed heavily, and cast her a strange glance. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it. Then he took a deep breath and told her. "It took my brother and me ten years to make this place what it is. We built every building, fenced every cow. And Nigel wants it. He's got papers from a court, saying the place is his now. I want it back. That's all…I want it back. This is my home, I built it with my own hands."

  "How could he do that? I mean…legally."

  Quint sat down beside her now, making her back-up a bit on the sofa. "My brother Jess, was a gambler, Nigel was in the game. He'd been winning all night. My brother got this hand, it was a good hand, a winning hand, and he bet the place against the money in the pot that he'd win. He lost. He was drinking, upset of course, and he drew on Nigel. Nigel killed him. Now, I can't bring my brother back, but I can get my place back, and that's what I'm going to do, with you. All I want is the deed free and clear like he got it."

  Her mouth opened but nothing came out.

  "Nigel killed your brother?" She gasped. Her eyes seemed to take in her surroundings with renewed interest.

  "That's right, in a gunfight, in a saloon. But before his death my brother bet the ranch away. Nigel had the winning hand. I fought him off of here for the longest. Then he got a court order, saying I had to vacate, well…ma'am, I'm not vacating. This place is mine, and I won't leave it. They can bury me on it, but I won't leave. Now do you understand?" He asked his eyes sparkling into hers.

  "But I'm not part of this?" She argued.

  "No ma'am, you weren't. But you are now. You are going to get my place back for me. If he thinks anything of you, he'll hand over the deed."

  "It won't hold up in court!"

  "Maybe not! Maybe it won't. But before I let him have this place, or you, I'll marry you myself, and tear the place down, board by board. "

  "Marry me!" she shook her head. "You can't do that…"

  "Watch me." He threatened and walked away. "What difference does it make who you marry. You're a mail-order bride, you never even seen Nigel. You've seen me!"

  She sat there staring into the empty fireplace and shaking her head. How could this happen? How could she come west, risk everything to marry Nigel and get caught up in a simple land war?

  Question was, would Nigel hand over the deed to get her back? She had no idea what he might do.

  Questions began dancing in her head. Would Nigel take care of this? Would he rescue her? It seeme
d simple, all Nigel had to do was turn the land back over to this…man!

  She sipped her coffee and sat there for what seemed like hours, and then she laid her head back against the sofa and fell asleep. She hadn't been sleepy but it was a welcome void now.

  When Quint returned to carry her up the stairs she was barely awake. "I must have fallen asleep. I was so tired from the train ride, and the buggy ride here…" she said sleepily as she held on to his neck.

  He glanced down at her, and stared into her eyes. He threw open a door with one hand and kicked it closed with his boot heel.

  "Until this is over, this is your room, do what you want, except you can't leave this place." He reiterated. "That's all I ask."

  As he put her down his eyes latched onto hers, and he looked almost as though he might be sorry for putting her through this. He started to walk off, but in all fairness she didn't deserve this. "Look, I'm sorry for you, but this is how it will be. And you have my word I won't hurt you. I realize you are innocent of this. All I want is my land back."

  She nodded dully. But as he was about to leave, she put her hand on his arm. "Nigel will give you the land back, I'll see to it. But…please, let me go."

  "I'd like to believe that, but I can't. I've sent a note about you, he'll know by morning." He said.

  "Surely he's a fair man.…" she began.

  "You should have found out about him a lot sooner ma'am. Goodnight Cilla…" he said softly and left.

  Chapter Two

  Quint stared at the floor for a long time. Scout came through the doorway and laid down in front of him. Quint bent to pet him.

  What was he doing? He'd never kidnapped a woman before. She wasn't even that pretty! Mousy brown hair, with light green eyes that seemed to search his very soul. She was proud, and he admired that, and strong for she hadn't broken into tears like he expected her to. She was a surprise.

  He wondered why she wore her hair back, all of it. It made her look older than she was.

  What he was about to do wasn't in his plans but the day just fell that way. It might just work!

  She was an innocent in this. She had no part of his feud with Nigel. That was the part he didn't like. But, it could work, if Nigel really cared about her in the first place. If he didn't, then she would recognize it and want to go home.

  She'd brought enough luggage that he was sure she was staying forever. He'd already put it by the doorway, he'd carry it up when she came out again.

  But how much did she really know about her intended, he wondered.

  He sighed heavily, took off his hat and boots and laid on the bed. His bed was against the same wall that hers was. What was she thinking about now? Was she stretched out on the bed, fretting and worrying? Or had she in her misery gone to sleep.

  He figured she was probably fretting.

  Scout whined a bit then laid down and went to sleep.

  Quint looked at himself. He'd become a monster today. He'd stooped low to get what he thought should have been his all along. Now he'd involved an innocent woman in the mix. He'd never in his whole life done anything so low. But circumstances had caused it.

  A restlessness stirred within him.

  And what was he going to do with her? Cooped up in a house with her all the time, smelling her sweet scent, staring into those accusing beautiful eyes of hers. He'd never thought green eyes were pretty until now.

  But thinking on it, there was innocence in her eyes, along with naïve, and strong spirit.

  Had he said beautiful? Well hell, she did have pretty eyes.

  She wasn't beautiful...exactly. She was plain. He'd have expected 'Nigel' to come up with something more elaborate than her. Nigel's dance hall girls were prettier than she was. And yet, there was something quite compelling about her. He couldn't put his finger on it. She attracted him in the strangest of ways.

  Poor girl, he'd bet his horse she didn't know a thing about Nigel's carousing with saloon girls.

  Married!

  That wasn't right either. He couldn't in all fairness imagine a woman like her married to a man like 'Nigel'. She wasn't just a woman; she was a lady. Anyone could see that! And he had no experience with ladies.

  Damned if he wasn't proud of her, she hadn't cried one tear. She hadn't shown fear either. This lady from Philadelphia had guts if nothing else.

  Still, the standoff had started and he'd see it through. And he promised himself he'd never hurt her or see her get hurt either.

  Alone now, in this big house that was too big for him, he shook his head. All the dreams that he and his brother had shared over the years were gone. They'd planned on building the place up and marrying and having children. It was a simple dream. His brother even had a girl. She was a sweet young thing and Jesse had courted her for some time, then they got engaged. Everything had been working out well. If only his brother hadn't gone into the saloon that day. If only he hadn't gambled the place away, all would be well right now. He should have never taught his brother how to gamble.

  A lot of if only's. Had it been nothing more than fate?

  His mind kept drifting to the woman next door. He'd put her in a predicament and he felt bad about it, after all, she was an innocent. Why'd he keep saying that? Because she was!

  If he were truthful he'd have to admit that he couldn't quite see her marrying Banks. She was much too genteel a woman for the likes of him. She was holding up well to be thrust in this kind of position. He admired that about her.

  Where in hell did Banks get a woman with such guts?

  He'd thought her plain when he first met her. But that didn't quite fit either. He didn't like how she wore her hair tied back so severely. He wondered what she might look like if he loosened it about her face.

  You are losing your mind! Thinking about that woman. She had breeding. She didn't belong with Banks, but it wasn't his place to tell her. She'd have to find that out for herself. And that led him to wonder? Would Banks give him the deed for the woman? He wasn't so sure! What dreams did Banks have? What did he really want? The answer would hold a key to Quint's dreams.

  He heard the stairs creek so he peeked out his door, and there she was going down the stairs quietly.

  "Need something?" He asked as Scout followed him.

  She glanced at the dog, then him. "I was hungry…."

  "I guess we sort of skipped eating, didn't we? Come on, I'll rustle us up something." He smiled.

  Holding her skirt up as she walked down the stairs she waited for him to lead the way to the kitchen.

  She looked about the room with an open curiosity. Quint nodded to himself. Most women were interested in the kitchens. Quint was proud of his home, he and his brother had spent all the money, and all the hard work to bring the best to their home.

  Scout went to lay by the doorway.

  "That's a nice table…" she remarked running her hand over it.

  "Thanks, my brother and I built it."

  "Oak?"

  "That's right. You know about different woods?"

  "My father used to dabble with woodworking. He was pretty good, but this is exceptional, I only wish he could see it." She rubbed her hand over the smooth surface again.

  "You know, you seem like a nice lady, and I really don't want to upset your plans, but you could be the only thing he cares enough about to call this off." Quint explained.

  She sat down at the table, squaring her shoulders and sighing she looked up at him. It was plain she didn't see things the way he did.

  Although she hadn't cried or thrown a fit, there was a new sort of dejection about her now. As though something had gotten to her. He wondered what it was.

  "Perhaps if you let me go, I could simply talk to him, and persuade him. I mean it's not like he doesn't own enough land, now is it?"

  He brought her some water, and began heating some ham in a skillet. When he was done he made them both a sandwich and brought it to the table. "You don't understand men out here."

  "Men out here, are they
so different than any other?"

  "No, but what they want, is. Land has become the mark of a wealthy man. You see, gold is nothing but a gamble, but land, is a sure thing. So, they are much different. A man never has enough land, ma'am. You'll learn that quick enough. Land is better than gold."

  "But he has thousands of acres, why should he need more?"

  Quint smiled to himself at the analogy. "It's called ambition, and he doesn't have enough water on his property to see to all his cattle. That's why he wants this place. With my land, he'd have everything he needed and then some. At least for a while. You see, out here a man's stature is measured by the land itself. Oh if you hit it rich with a gold mine, that's one thing. But the reality is, few do."

  "Surely he isn't that greedy. I mean can't the two of you come to some kind of agreement about the water?" She protested.

  He looked at her incredulously. "We tried that, it didn't work. Then we charged for it, that didn't work either. He still took advantage of us. And then my brother…bless his heart couldn’t' stay away from the gambling tables. That's when Nigel found our weakness. He killed my brother, so I'm not obliged to make any more deals with him. I want the deed to my land back. And like I said, I'll get it, or I'll marry you, and tear this place apart."

  "Why on earth would you marry me?" She chuckled drily.

  "Because he wants you, and I got you. It's as simple as that. It would mean something, to me. You're a real lady."

  She stopped eating and stared at him, "You mean to tell me, you'd marry me, just to keep him from having me?"

  "Yes ma'am. I would."

  "But you have your whole life ahead of you, why would you throw it away and marry someone you care nothing for?" She shook her head not making any sense of it.

  "You came how many miles to marry a man you never even met, ma'am. Am I any different than you?"

  Quint didn't think it made sense either, but he'd said it, and he wouldn't be taking it back. Maybe that part was a little crazy, but looking at her now, she wasn't that bad a bargain. She had more sense than most Easterners. Most of what she said made a lot of sense. Besides, he was curious what she might look like if she took that hair down and let it fall over her shoulders. He had a feeling it would be a real transformation.