The Favored Cowboy (Noble Ranch #2)

Chapter 1

Summit County, Colorado

A mail-order bride in Colorado. That’s what her life had been reduced to.

Amelia Stone shuddered and drew her thin coat tighter. The mid-December high-country air was drier and more brittle than in New York. But it wasn’t the cold that was haunting her so much as what was waiting for her at the end of her journey—marriage to a stranger.

“Almost there,” said the man on the horse ahead of hers, his little boy of three riding on the saddle in front of him. The man’s wife led their small caravan, carrying her newborn in a sling beneath her fur blanket.

Amelia nodded wearily and laid a hand over her abdomen and the babe growing inside her.

If she wore her clothes loosely, the swell didn’t show much, but the baby would soon be too big to hide if her calculations were correct.

Thankfully, so far she hadn’t felt too tired or sick, with only a little indigestion once in a while.

“You can see Breckenridge, Miss Stone.” The man spoke again. “There.” He pointed ahead to a bend in the Blue River—the river they’d been following since descending Independence Pass.

In the growing dusk, the outline of a town was visible against the backdrop of the towering Tenmile Range.

A hodgepodge of weathered log structures as well as whitewashed clapboard buildings clustered along the river and among stumps.

Lights shone from windows, and smoke curled from chimneys, giving Breckenridge a welcoming aura.

At least, she hoped it would be more welcoming than Albany had been.

It was certainly more picturesque. In fact, from the first moment she’d seen the Rockies from the train window on the plains, she hadn’t stopped being awed by the rugged grandeur and beauty of the peaks and the vast wilderness that covered the mountainsides.

With the fresh dusting of snow, the small town ahead had a Christmassy charm and was prettier than Fairplay, where she’d been stuck for the past month while the snow and ice prevented travel.

Not only had the weather been an issue, but she’d also had a difficult time finding someone to take her over Independence Pass up into Summit County.

She might have been stuck in Fairplay all winter if not for Mr. . . .

Amelia scrambled to make her mind work through the haze that had been there for weeks. What was the fellow’s name? Was it Olson? No, it had to do with a tree. Oak? Mr. Oak? That didn’t sound quite right. The truth was, she’d never been very good at names, and the pregnancy had made it worse.

Fortunately, Mr. Oak—or whatever his name was—had heard she was looking for a guide to take her to Breckenridge.

The kindly man had a business there—a sawmill—that he wanted to check on.

He also had family in the area and planned to stay with them through Christmas, which was only two weeks away.

With the bright sunshine of the past few days having melted some of the snow, he’d decided to make the trip and had loaned her the horse for the journey.

The trek up into the mountains had been slow and had taken most of the day. They’d had to stop on occasion for the baby. Then, in the higher elevations, the snow had been deep and difficult for the horses to wade through.

Finally, the end was in sight.

Would she meet her husband-to-be tonight? A part of her wanted to get the introduction over with. But another part relished the prospect of waiting a little longer.

A gust of wind tugged at the hood of her coat. She reached up to clasp it in place, but it fell back to her shoulders. Strands of her soft brown hair blew across her cheeks and into her eyes. She secured her hood again, then tucked the long hair back inside.

Her hair was one of her best features. Thick, luxurious, and wavy.

Most importantly, it was the one thing she’d gotten from her father and not her mother.

Unfortunately, she’d inherited everything else from her mother—her hazel eyes with the flecks of gold, rounded face with dimples in her cheeks, lushly full lips, thick sculpted eyebrows.

Amelia not only had her mother’s facial features but also her womanly figure—a generous bust, curvy hips, and long legs.

The natural beauty had brought Amelia attention over recent years, including Charles’s. She hadn’t encouraged him during his visits out to their dairy farm, but he’d noticed her anyway.

Amelia sighed and forced her thoughts away from Charles.

The two months of being married to him had been unpleasant until he’d been murdered, but she was hopefully entering into a better arrangement.

Anything would be better. That’s what she’d been telling herself since answering several ads in the matrimonial catalog back in August.

“Have you remembered your husband-to-be’s name yet?” Mr. Oak tossed her another glance, his eyes filled with compassion beneath the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Not yet.” Amelia searched her mind again for the name of the man from Breckenridge with whom she’d exchanged letters. Was it Samuel Beckett? Or was that one she’d written to in California or Oregon? Wasn’t the fellow she’d communicated with in Breckenridge a Thomas? Timothy? Or some other T name?

Of the three men, she’d picked the one in Breckenridge because he worked with cows and cattle and other livestock.

More than that, she liked how he’d answered her question about what the most important qualities were to him.

He’d said he was honest, hard-working, and loyal.

And that he’d earned the respect of his boss and the people in the community.

A respectable husband. That’s what she wanted this time. Hopefully that’s what she would get in the man from Breckenridge.

The trouble was, at some point in her journey, she’d lost the bundle of letters from the men.

She hadn’t realized that she didn’t have the correspondences anymore until she’d arrived in Fairplay and searched for them to reread the letters from the fellow in Breckenridge and familiarize herself with him again.

She hadn’t been able to find them anywhere and had no idea where she’d left them during her days of traveling.

She’d decided her only option was to show up in Breckenridge and make inquiries about who might be expecting a mail-order bride.

Yes, she’d originally said she would arrive in the spring.

But when she’d realized she was pregnant, she’d decided to move up her departure and travel while she still could.

She hoped the Breckenridge fellow would be willing to marry her sooner rather than later. Her funds were almost gone, and she wouldn’t have enough to pay for room and board through spring. If he wasn’t ready, she was hoping he would be kind enough to help her out as much as he was able.

What was his name? Thornton? That sounded vaguely familiar.

“Do you have a description of him?” Mr. Oak called over his shoulder.

What had the Breckenridge man said about his appearance?

She couldn’t remember which one of the men had light or dark hair or blue or green eyes.

It didn’t really matter. In being married to Charles, she’d learned that a fellow’s looks were far less important than his character.

That’s why she’d made sure all three men she’d corresponded with had stellar characters.

“What about his age?” This question came from her guide’s wife, whose name Amelia did remember. Serena.

“I believe he’s in his twenties.” All the men had been. Not that she particularly cared about age any more than she did appearance.

Mr. Oak shook his head. “Reckon that could be true for most of the single men in Breckenridge.”

“Yes,” Amelia responded, “but how many specifically work with cows and cattle?”

“A good number. You’d be surprised how many ranches and farms are up here in the high country, especially in the river valley.”

Not for the first time, Amelia wanted to slap herself for neglecting to bring the correspondences.

At the very least, before leaving the house in Albany, she could have looked at the name of the man from Breckenridge and clarified it.

But those last few days and hours had been so tense as she’d laid out her plan of escape, and she’d been more scattered than usual.

She surveyed the town again as it loomed closer. It didn’t look overly large. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to find her husband-to-be. “I’m planning to announce that I’ve arrived and then pray the fellow hears about me and comes to meet me.”

“We’ll help you.” Serena gave her a reassuring smile. “And I’m sure it will all work out just fine.”

Mr. Oak shrugged. “Reckon if he don’t come claim you, you’ll find another fellow to marry in no time.”

Amelia’s gaze settled on a wide two-story building on the edge of town. Big black letters were painted across the front above the door: Vance Hotel. Light filled each window, and the establishment appeared to be busy.

Maybe she could take a room there tonight.

At the very least, she could stop and inquire about her groom.

Then, yes, if the fellow from Breckenridge didn’t come forward, she would have to find someone else.

After all, except for the man having godly morals and being well-respected, not a whole lot else mattered.

She pressed a hand against her abdomen again. Whether she found the original man she’d corresponded with or someone else, she would have to say something about the baby, wouldn’t she? She couldn’t deceive anyone into thinking the baby was his. That was unconscionable. And she was too far along.

However, the same question plagued her now as it had since she’d left Albany.

Would the fellow be interested in her if he knew she was pregnant?

She hadn’t known about her delicate condition when she’d written the letters in response to the marriage catalog advertisements.

But she had let them know she was a widow.

So the pregnancy might not come as too much of a surprise.