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Thomas turned to smile at the little woman who stood in the doorway. Hazel Gorman was short, round and full of wrinkles. Her hazel eyes twinkled as she looked at him. He wasn’t sure of her age and had never been brave enough to ask. “Hello, Hazel. I didn’t hear you arrive.” He put the horse into a stall, where fresh oats awaited it.
She continued into the barn carrying a big basket. “With the way you and these horses were yammering on, I’m not surprised.” There was a teasing glint in her voice that assured him she was joking.
“What’s in the basket?” Thomas knew it contained some kind of eatable. Hazel was their nearest neighbor and enjoyed bringing them some form of baked good at least once a week. She also brought them canned goods and warm soups or stews.
“It’s getting colder, so I thought you two boys might like a couple of loaves of bread, and I’ve also jarred up my favorite beef stew. It should last you a few days.” Her wrinkled face crinkled up into a smile.
The old woman had more or less adopted Thomas and Philip and used the excuse of feeding them as a reason to come over and check on them. Thomas knew she grew lonely out on her place and, to be honest, he enjoyed her frequent visits.
“Well, thank you. Come on into the house. I just put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
She fell into step with him. “When is Phil coming home?”
Thomas grinned. “Anytime now. He should have already arrived.”
As if she heard the loneliness in his voice, Hazel grunted. “You two boys need wives to help you pass the time when the other is working.”
He held the door open for her. Thomas didn’t point out that he was working, too. And he wasn’t about to talk about getting wives. Instead he said, “That stew smells good.”
Hazel playfully slapped his arm as she passed. “You can’t smell the stew. You’re just trying to change the subject.” She walked to the kitchen area and set the bread and jars on the table.
He closed the door and shut out the cold air and lightly falling snow. “Look, Hazel, I know you mean well, but Philip and I are doing just fine without wives.”
She ignored him and moved to the cabinet that contained four tin mugs, the remainder of the clean dishes in the house. Hazel filled two of them with hot coffee and motioned for him to join her at the table.
Thomas sat down with a sigh. If he knew Hazel, and he believed he did, she was going to start a running conversation on the benefits of having a wife.
Hazel studied his features over the rim of her coffee cup.
He turned his face so that she could see only the right side. The last thing Thomas wanted was for her to focus on the scar that ran from his temple to his chin on the right side. It wasn’t pretty and no woman should have to look at it straight on.
“You are a handsome young man, Tom. Look at me.” She lowered her cup.
Thomas tried a teasing tone. “You are mighty pretty, too, Miss Hazel. Are you hinting you’d like to marry me?” He continued to keep his face tilted from her sight.
“You rascal. We both know I’m too old for you. Besides, I want a man who isn’t ashamed of his looks.” Her tone had lost its teasing tone.
Thomas didn’t have a chance to answer. The door burst open and Philip came into the cabin. Cold air and a petite young woman followed him inside.
Without so much as a how-do-you-do, Philip blurted, “Hey, Thomas! Look what I brought home!”
This couldn’t be good. Philip looked a little too cheerful. The pixie-looking girl beside him smiled shyly and clutched a worn piece of luggage in her small hands. She was a pretty little thing with big brown eyes, a mass of short red hair and the cutest turned-up nose he’d ever seen. Thomas didn’t know how to answer his brother. He had no idea what was going on. “Um...”
Hazel got to her feet. “Did you up and get married, Phil?” She hurried forward and hugged him.
Shock filled Philip’s face as he held his hands up like a bank robber in front of the sheriff. “No.”
Hazel stood back and frowned. “Then maybe you should explain who this young lady is.” She released him and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
Philip reached behind him and pulled the pixie forward. “This is Josephine Dooly. Thomas’s mail-order bride.” His laughing blue eyes met Thomas’s.
“What?” Thomas’s and Hazel’s shocked voices echoed each other.
The young woman seemed to have found her tongue. “I know I should have waited till you sent for me, but, well, under the circumstances, I came as fast as I could.”
“What circumstances?”
Her cheeks reddened. “I told you in the letter.” Small hands clutched the carpetbag as if she were afraid they’d take it from her.
“What letter?” Thomas stood and raked his hand down the side of his scarred face.
Philip looked as pleased as punch. His blue eyes danced with merriment as the scene unfolded before him.
Hazel’s gaze darted between the three of them. She finally focused her eyes upon Josephine. “I’m Hazel Gorman. Let’s sit down at the table and see if we can sort this all out.” Her wrinkled hand waved toward Thomas and the chairs that remained empty behind him.
Josephine nodded. She sat her bag beside the door and walked toward him.
Philip shook his head. “I need to unload the wagon before the storm hits.”
“It will wait.” The steel in Hazel’s voice stopped the young man. Wariness filled his eyes.
Thomas waited for the young woman to sit, then he did the same. Whatever was going on, it was obvious that Philip had a hand in it all. Thomas picked up his warm cup and cradled it between his palms as he watched his brother pull out a seat at the old wooden table. The smile on Philip’s face set Thomas’s teeth on edge.
Hazel set cups of coffee in front of Philip and Josephine. “All right, you two. Start at the beginning.”
Josephine looked at Philip, who quickly began to study the surface of the table as if he’d never seen it before. She shrugged and said in a soft voice, “As Philip said, I am Josephine Dooly. I answered Thomas’s mail-order-bride ad because my uncle is trying to marry me off to pay for his gambling debts. Mr. Grossman, my uncle’s chosen husband for me, is three times my age and a gambler with no moral conscience. I’d simply be a servant in his house.” She shuddered and inhaled before continuing. “When I answered Thomas’s mail-order-bride ad, I explained that I wanted to get away from my uncle and start somewhere fresh. Thomas wrote back and said he’d send me money for passage out to Dove Creek as soon as he could afford to. I couldn’t wait, so I took a job as a Pony Express rider and brought myself to Dove Creek.”
She took a deep breath and looked to Philip, who still studied the tabletop. A sigh escaped her lips before she pressed on. “I met Philip at the home station and he said he was Thomas’s brother and would take me to him. So while he completed his Express run, I went into town and bought a couple of dresses, shoes and other things I knew I’d need to start a new life and home with Thomas. My things are on the wagon.”
Thomas shook his head. “I never placed a mail-order-bride ad.”
Josephine’s chocolate eyes flared with new brightness. “I wrote to you and you answered.”
Hazel focused on Philip. “What do you have to say about all this, young man?”
He finally looked up. “Well, I got to thinking about what you said.” Philip paused, but Hazel’s lips only grew thinner. “You know, about how lonesome Thomas gets when I’m off on my rides for the Pony Express.” He paused again. Still no response came from the older woman. “So I placed the ad.” He held up his hands at the flash of anger that entered the older woman’s eyes. “Now, Hazel, don’t get all riled up. You are the one who said he needed a wife.” Philip crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chair back. “I got him one.”
Josephine gasped. From the look on her delicate features, this was news to her, too.
Thomas wanted to knock the chair right out from under Philip. He lowered his voice and said, “Philip, this has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. I don’t want a wife. You marry her.” He pushed away from the table.
Philip dropped the chair back onto four legs and stood, also. “I’m not the one who is moping around here like a lost puppy.”
Anger flared through Thomas’s blood. “I haven’t been moping and I don’t want or need a wife.” He waved his hand toward Josephine.
Josephine was on her feet in an instant. “I will not marry him!” she said, pointing at Philip with a shaky finger. “He’s a liar and can’t be trusted.” She turned toward Thomas. “You, on the other hand, I have to marry and I have to do it quick.”
“Why me?” Thomas demanded through gritted teeth, not liking that he felt as if he were being pushed against the wall.
Hazel spoke calmly but firmly. “Sit down, all of you.” When all three did as she said, Hazel sighed. “Philip, this is a mess and it’s your fault.” She turned to look at Josephine. “I’m sorry you got involved with these two’s tomfoolery.”
Josephine’s big brown eyes filled with tears. “I have to marry Thomas. My uncle could find me at any time and force me to marry Mr. Grossman. I don’t want to get married, either, but it’s my only escape.”
Thomas studied the girl. She had a heart-shaped face surrounded by short, fiery red curls that came to her jawbone. Brown eyes as big as pie plates were filled with the bare glistening of tears. Small freckles were sprinkled over her pert nose. She certainly was a pretty little thing.
Josephine’s eyes blazed into his as she huffed and visibly stiffened, gaining her nerve, it would seem. “Look, I realize this isn’t what you want, but I have to get married and you are the one I am going to marry.” She swallowed hard, lifted her chin and boldly met his gaze.
The show of strength and the determination in her voice took him by surprise. What had happened to the young woman who moments ago had trembling lips and tears in her eyes? Was her situation so desperate she’d marry a scarred man like him?
The wind whipped around the cabin windows. Hazel looked at the swirling snow outside. “I have to get home, but I refuse to leave this young woman alone with you two.” She pushed her chair back. “Josephine, you come home with me and we’ll sort this out tomorrow.”
Josephine pushed herself to a standing position and raised her chin with a cool stare in Thomas’s direction. “I expect to get married tomorrow.” With her head held high, Josephine picked up her bag and followed Hazel out onto the front porch.
Thomas’s gaze followed her. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall. Such a tiny woman for such a big attitude.
Josephine turned and looked at Philip. Her hand clasped something under her blouse as if she were seeking strength. “You will pay for this, Philip Young.” Then she followed Hazel off the porch and into the swirling snow.
Thomas looked at his brother’s stricken face. Had he not been so upset with Philip, he’d have laughed outright. For once in his life, Philip actually looked afraid. Josephine Dooly might be small, but she’d put the fear into Philip.
Renewed anger at what his brother had done turned Thomas’s tone to grit. “I’m going to follow Hazel home. I’d hate for them to get trapped in this weather. You need to get whatever is in the wagon and bring it into the house.”
Seeing Philip’s horse standing beside the porch, Thomas decided to take it for the short ride over to Hazel’s small farm.
Hazel and Josephine sat side by side on Hazel’s wagon bench. The two women were bundled up and heading down the rutted road. Thomas followed. What was he going to do now? He didn’t want to get married, but the fear he’d seen in Josephine’s eyes had been real.
If he understood her correctly, Josephine’s uncle intended to sell her to his gambler friend to pay off his own debts. No one deserved to be held in servitude to another, and if what the young woman had said was true, Thomas knew he’d never allow anyone to marry her off like a piece of property.
Deep down, Thomas knew he’d marry her to save her from her uncle and the gambler—even if this wasn’t the path he would have chosen for his own life.
Chapter Two (#ub214167c-c213-586e-8d44-76fa1a93a7fc)
Josephine trembled with anger. She’d been lied to. Again. What made men act the way they did? Were there no honorable men left in the world? Josephine pulled the locket from under her dress and held it in her hand. In the past her mother’s necklace had given her a sense of hope. Now it only felt like a weighted piece of jewelry.
“Are you cold, dear?” Hazel used her right hand and tucked the blanket tighter around Josephine’s legs. Snow drifted easily about them.
“Not really,” she answered as she tucked the necklace back inside the neck of her dress. How did she explain that she trembled from fear? Her plans had seemed so simple when she left St. Joseph. She’d get to Dove Creek by traveling the Pony Express trail, then once she arrived, find her mail-order groom and get married. But that wasn’t how it had worked out. Now her future looked vague and shadowy. She tried to force her confused emotions into order, but sadness enveloped her along with the ever-constant and pulsating fear.
“Angry?” Hazel ventured.
Josephine looked at Hazel in surprise and nodded. Philip had been the one who had placed the ad and answered her letter. He’d lied to her. Like all the men in her life, he’d turned out to be a deceiver. First her father had deserted her shortly after her mother’s death, then her uncle had betrayed her by using her to pay off his gambling debts and now Philip had tricked her. Men couldn’t be trusted. “Very,” she admitted.
“I don’t blame you one bit. Phil doesn’t always think before he acts. I’m sure it never dawned on him that his meddling in Thomas’s life would put you in danger.” Her aged hands slapped the reins over the horses’ backs to speed them along.
The snow continued to fall heavily in big, puffy flakes. Josephine didn’t correct her by saying she’d been in danger long before Philip’s deceit. Instead she asked, “Why would he do such a thing?”
Hazel shook her gray head. “I might be partially to blame. I’ve been telling those boys for months that they needed wives. It gets lonely out here, but I never imagined Philip would go off and do a harebrained thing like this. I’m sorry, Josephine.”
“Miss Hazel, it’s not your fault. Philip is the one who placed the ad and encouraged me to come. He’s to blame.” Josephine looked over her shoulder. She could see Thomas trailing them, riding Philip’s horse. Had he really not known what his brother was up to? Maybe he hadn’t. His green eyes had shone with confusion when she and Philip first entered the old shack.
If Hazel heard the bitterness in Josephine’s voice, she didn’t let on. “They are both nice young men,” Hazel said, turning down another lane.
Josephine didn’t want to argue with the older woman, but right now she just didn’t see it. Philip had lied to her and pretended to be his brother; at least, he had in the letter he’d sent. And at no time during their trip out to the way station had he said anything about Thomas not knowing she was coming. As for Thomas, he might be nice, but he didn’t want to get married and she didn’t know what she’d do if he didn’t marry her.
The wagon slowed to a stop in front of a farmhouse. “It’s not much, but it is home,” Hazel said, setting the brake and preparing to dismount from the wagon.
Josephine looked at the small house and smiled. She watched as smoke curled upward from the chimney into the late-afternoon sky. Its warmth beckoned to her. “It’s perfect.” Weariness weighed heavily upon her shoulders as she climbed down from the wagon.
Thomas pulled up beside them. His cowboy hat covered most of his head, but light brown hair could be seen around his ears and neck. A light beard covered his face. “Hazel, it looks like we are in for a heavy snow. Can I cut more wood for you?”
It seemed now that he wasn’t filled with shock, his voice had lowered a degree. Josephine found herself looking up at him. She liked the warmth in his expression.
Hazel answered, “No, thank you, Tom. We’re set for a few days.” She carried her basket up the steps.
A few days? Josephine hadn’t planned on staying with the woman a few days. She needed to get back to Dove Creek and to the preacher who could marry them. Her gaze moved from the old woman back to Thomas.
His green eyes searched hers. “Do you mind talking for a few minutes?” he asked, swinging down from the saddle.
“Come on inside, both of you. You can use the sitting room to have your visit,” Hazel ordered as she entered the house.
Josephine didn’t know exactly when or how she’d let the older woman take over her life, but it seemed Hazel had done just that. She turned her attention back to Thomas. “I need to talk to you, too.” If she could make him understand why she needed to get married as soon as possible, then maybe he’d agree.
He nodded and followed her into the house. Josephine stopped inside the doorway. She hadn’t expected to see a plush settee and large chair in the small home. A beautiful rug rested on the floor and colorful paintings filled the walls.
Hazel came out of a door to the right of the room. “Josephine, you can sleep in there tonight.” She indicated the room behind her and then continued on to the kitchen. “I’m going to make hot coffee. Would either of you like a slice of spice cake to go with the coffee?”
Thomas answered, “I can’t stay long.” He took his hat off and worked the brim with his hands.
“I’d love a piece,” Josephine replied as her stomach growled.
Hazel nodded and left the room. Josephine moved to the settee. “Would you like to sit?” She set her bag down.
Thomas nodded. “I’m sorry that Philip lied to you.”
“Me, too. But that doesn’t help me now.”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Thomas looked to the doorway where Hazel had gone.
Was he wishing he’d followed her? Josephine sighed. “Was that all you wanted to say?”
He looked back at her. “No. Were you telling the truth? Is your uncle going to force you to marry someone to pay off his gambling debt?”
“Yes.” Her voice trembled. Had he heard the fear she felt?
Josephine prayed she could make him change his mind about marrying her. “The man my uncle wants me to marry is old, smells like rotting food and is willing to take me as payment for my uncle’s debts.” She stopped, her gaze met his and she involuntarily shivered at the thought of someone like the gambler ever touching her. “He makes my skin crawl when he looks at me,” Josephine admitted.
Thomas moved his hand to the right side of his face, where a faint line ran from his temple to his chin, and asked, “And marrying me would be better?”
Josephine smiled at him. “Well, you aren’t old and I can’t smell you from here. So I think so.” When he didn’t smile back, she sighed. “Look, I just need to be married. I’m not asking you to be a real husband. I can take care of myself. In a few months I’ll be twenty-one and out of my uncle’s and Mr. Grossman’s reach. But until then, I need to be legally married so that my uncle will no longer be my guardian.”
