Chapter 1
William
“I can’t believe someone answered the ad,” Clive muttered under his breath as he climbed onto the bench of their wagon and picked up the reins.
I was already waiting, a small bouquet of wildflowers for our new wife on my lap.
I bit my tongue against snapping back at him because I knew he didn’t mean it personally.
He wasn’t insulting me, even though it felt that way.
I was the one who had written the ad.
I was the one who had told him someone would answer.
I was right.
Clive didn’t like it when things didn’t go his way. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a wife, we both wanted a woman in our lives, but he didn’t like that my way had worked when he’d told me it wouldn’t.
As much as my fingers itched to be the one driving, for once, I didn’t fight him on it.
He was already on edge over the woman arriving today.
He couldn’t control who she was, what she looked like, or what kind of wife she’d be, but he could control the horses.
Over the years, I’d learned to pick my battles.
Sometimes, I thought he still saw me as the scrawny teenager I’d been when he’d rescued me from the gang of men intent on stealing my week’s pay.
Back then, he’d been twenty-two, four years older than me, bigger and stronger than most young men his age.
With regular meals and working the ranch we shared, I’d caught up to him in weight and muscle, but he didn’t seem to notice, and to be truthful, I had trouble pushing him on it.
Since I owed him my life, was it really too much to let him take the lead when it was something that didn’t matter much?
He was more than my partner—he was the brother I’d never had and the man I was going to share my wife with, in the Creekland manner. When we’d heard about Creekland and the way they married, two men to one woman, we’d known it was the place for us. We shared everything else, so it just made sense.
Today, I was getting my way, and our new wife was arriving.
My dick was already hardening in anticipation.
It had been far too long since we’d had a woman between us.
I doubted any woman would be ready to jump in the middle of us immediately, but we would enjoy working her up to it and drowning her with pleasure in the meantime.
When I answered him, there was no bite to my tone because I’d already won.
“There was nothing wrong with the ad.”
Clive sent me a mulish look, his dark eyes full of skepticism before he flicked the reins, getting the horses started down the lane.
It felt odd to be on the wagon rather than horseback, but it made the most sense.
We had no way of knowing whether or not our bride could ride, and she’d likely be arriving with luggage.
It would also be easier to talk to her and get to know her a bit better if she was seated between us for the ride home.
I knew part of Clive’s worry came from the unknown. Literally, everything about Miss Sassy McCloud was unknown to us except her name. I found it exciting—Clive didn’t.
If she met the requirements of the ad, we’d both be happy.
Owners of the NorthWest Ranch in Creekland, Minnesota Territory, desire a wife, age eighteen to twenty-five, pretty, healthy, and able to work hard. In return, wife will be cherished and protected. No portrait necessary.
Neither of us had a preference for weight, height, hair color, eye color… we liked women. Period. Even though Clive could never be described as easygoing, I figured we could make it work with any woman sent our way if she was of the right age and constitution.
Clive
William was getting that dreamy-eyed look on his face again, and I didn’t know whether to sigh or smack him on the back of his fool head to knock some sense into him.
The boy was a romantic and an optimist, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but could grate on me when he ignored the realities of a situation.
Like right now.
He truly thought we were going to walk up to the train station and find a pretty little thing waiting for us, and we’d both fall head over heels in love with her and she with us. Then we’d get hitched in town, take her to the hotel, and pleasure her all night long.
Well… that last part didn’t sound so bad, but I had no illusions about life.
More likely, we were about to meet a woman with a face like a horse and the temperament of a shrew.
My cock might not be able to even rise to the occasion.
Sure, the other women who had come west to marry the men of Creekland had been fine, some of them even real pretty, but they’d had better ads.
It had taken so long for anyone to even answer William’s ad, I’d begun to think no one would. I’d even been a little disappointed, although I would never tell him. I didn’t think the ad had been a good idea from the beginning, but I hadn’t had a better one.
The wagon rumbled along the road, passing the fields of cattle and crops as we sat in silence. I could tell he had something on his mind, but I had no inclination to ask him what. He’d speak up when he was ready.
“Don’t you want a wife?” William finally asked, about a mile outside of town. He sounded a little worried. Considering the way I’d been acting, I guess I couldn’t blame him.
I did want a wife, but one I’d picked out—we’d picked out together. Marrying the only woman to answer the mail-order ad seemed like a recipe for disaster, but meeting a woman around here we’d want to marry, who wasn’t already claimed, would require as much luck as getting a good woman from an ad.
“I’m sure I’ll feel better when I meet her,” I said, which was about as cheery as I could make myself. I knew I would be much improved, even if she was a nightmare, because at least then I’d know. Not knowing anything was like an itch in the center of my back I couldn’t reach.
The telegram she’d sent had been short and to the point, which I would have appreciated any other time.
She was coming from New York and claimed to be a hard worker, healthy, and was considered comely.
Whether any of that would be true remained to be seen.
Still, my heart began to beat a little faster as the wagon came closer and closer to town.
Our woman, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. Our wife.
A thread of excitement trickled through me, even as I tried to push it back. There was no point in getting excited until we saw her… and she saw us. Hell, she might not even want us once she realized it was an ‘us.’
William thought his ad had made it clear we were looking for a wife, but outside of this territory, who would believe such a thing?
Sassy
I spread the ad and the last telegram over my lap, re-reading the small scrap of paper over and over again.
Will meet you at the train station. Will have flowers for you. – William
Knowing how to look for him made me feel a bit easier, but only a bit.
I glanced out the window to the golden fields rolling by.
So open and empty, they went on for miles, making me feel even smaller than I already did.
How could someone hide when there was nothing to hide behind?
It was nothing like London or New York City, nothing like anything I’d ever known.
I had to hope the difference and the many miles would be enough to keep me safe.
Heavy boots tramped down the train aisle, and I flinched, ducking my head as the man passed by my bench seat.
He wouldn’t have been able to see anything, anyway.
I had tucked myself between the window and a large woman who was both taller and broader, and I was still wearing my bonnet to hide my face.
My fingers shook as I looked down at the ad again.
Protected.
That had been the word I’d responded to. I wanted to feel safe again, even if I had to cross an ocean and go all the way to the Minnesota Territory to do it.
New York City hadn’t been safe. Lord Carmichael’s money got me there, and I’d found a job sewing in a factory until I decided my next move.
I hadn’t dared ply my former trade. Part of me hoped Lord Carmichael might forget about me, but when I remembered his screams, the blood on his face, and the smell of his burned flesh, I knew I couldn’t trust that hope.
For a man like him, I doubted an ocean could keep me from his vengeance.
From the first, I’d known the city would be the very first place he’d look for me, so my only hope was to disappear.
Overhearing the other women in the factory, talking about men looking for brides out west, giggling as they read the ads in the paper, spurred me to look, too. A woman could disappear out west, couldn’t she?
William’s last telegram hadn’t come too soon.
The day it arrived, one of the women at the factory told me some men were asking about a woman of my description with a British accent.
“But they’re looking for a whore.” Penny had giggled, sincerely amused. “Not someone as buttoned-up as you are.”
Somehow, I’d managed to laugh, even as panic clawed its way up my chest. I’d gone straight home to the boarding house after work that night, snuck in the back door, and cleared out my room. It was already paid up through the week, so I didn’t feel any guilt about my abrupt departure.
I used the last of Lord Carmichael’s money to buy myself a few new bonnets, my train ticket, and a hotel room to stay in until my train departed.
Hiding my face and hair with the deep bonnets, I spoke as little as possible, doing my best to ape an American accent when I did.
People looked at me oddly, but as long as I didn’t sound British, I didn’t care.
It wasn’t until I finally stepped on the train, I was able to breathe easier, the tightness around my chest finally loosening.
Tracking me to New York was no hard feat, especially since I was likely remembered on London’s docks—I hadn’t been thinking about hiding myself then—but surely, he wouldn’t be able to follow me west. Even if he did, I’d have a husband to protect me.
Cherish me. That was what the ad had promised.
I wanted to be cherished. To fall in love.
To feel my body come alive with a man. I had been told it was possible, despite my experiences.
Perhaps I had no right to be hopeful for such a thing, but I hoped all the same.
The train began to slow, and my heart bounced inside my chest as my head jerked up to look out the window at the town rolling into view.
Off in the distance, there were mountains standing between the land and the blue of the sky, looking smaller than I’d imagined they would be.
Perhaps they were bigger when one got closer.
There were no large buildings or bustling streets, although there were people milling about. There was something strange about the scene, and it took me a moment to realize what I found odd—there was no one rushing about, no one seemed to be in a hurry.
The conductor came by, shouting for all the passengers who were going to Creekland. The woman beside me snorted and came awake as I pulled my suitcase down from the shelf above us.
“You’re getting off here?” she asked, sounding shocked and a little scandalized.
I frowned. “Yes…”
She eyed my attire, which covered me completely. Penny had called me “buttoned-up” for a reason. It didn’t always keep the men at bay, unfortunately, but it helped a little.
“Wouldn’t have figured you for a harlot.”
Shocked, I stared at her, then the conductor was yelling again, and I had to hurry to get off the train. The word echoed in my mind. Why had she called me that? I didn’t have time to ponder the mystery, though. Almost as soon as I stepped off the train, I saw the man I was to meet.
There weren’t many people about, which made it very easy to see the two men on the far side, one of them holding a small bouquet of pink, white, and blue flowers—the only one on the platform holding flowers.
My lips parted in surprise.
I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but I knew it wasn’t this.
Both men were tall and broad-shouldered, although William was a little shorter than the man beside him.
He had a wide smile on his clean-shaven, handsome face that instantly made me want to like and trust him, a rather scary feeling after not being able to trust anyone for so long.
The man standing next to him was handsome despite his scowl, his face scruffier than William’s but still quite striking.
To my surprise, something in my body stirred as I looked at them.
Something I had only felt a few times before when one of my customers had been more attentive than usual—a little ache inside.
I was aroused. The shock of it held me still for a moment before I managed to shake it off and approach them, quaking from both fear and my body’s reaction.