Darby: Bride of Oregon (American Mail-Order Bride 33) (14 page)

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Authors: Bella Bowen

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Victorian Era, #Western, #Thirty-Three In Series, #Saga, #Fifty-Books, #Forty-Five Authors, #Newspaper Ad, #Short Story, #American Mail-Order Bride, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Factory Burned, #Pioneer, #Oregon, #Imitate Accent, #Scotswomen, #Brogue Lilt, #Temper, #Portland, #Shanghai Tunnels, #Dangerous Game, #Phantom, #Charade, #Danger, #Acting

BOOK: Darby: Bride of Oregon (American Mail-Order Bride 33)

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EPILOGUE

Rand stood fussing with the length of his bolo tie
while he waited for Poulson to return with a pair of pants. He’d been ready to
head downstairs, and to the red, white, and blue bunting-draped stands for
nearly an hour before disaster struck.

Now the crowd would have to wait.

Darby sat in the chair behind his desk upon which
their two boys were perched. She was washing their two ink-covered faces and
hands with a pile of handkerchiefs and a bottle of whisky.

“Our sons will smell like drunkards,” Rand
grumbled.

The boys laughed and repeated the word
drunkard
over and over again.

She shrugged. “At least
they’ll
be wearing
pants.”

Little Rachel gave up trying to see out the large
windows and turned. She had a large blue smear below her nose. “Poppa no pants?”

Rand took a deep breath and counted to ten.

“Poulson is bringing him a clean pair, darling.”
Darby laughed. “They may be too short, but at least they won’t have ink on
them.”

Tommy shook his head. “He shouldn’t have to wear
someone else’s pants.”

“Try to remember that, boy,” Rand growled, “the
next time you want to play catch with a bottle of ink.”

~ ~ ~

When the photograph of their young family was
posted in the paper the next morning, announcing the new Lieutenant Governor of
the State of Oregon, Darby insisted that the strange marks on the children’s
faces would prevent anyone from noticing how short the pant legs appeared to be
on Lieutenant Governor—and Lord—Rand Beauregard.

She enjoyed a good laugh …until she noticed the
dark mark on the end of her own nose that no one had thought to mention to her.

“This is why you were grinning in the photograph!”

Rand put his hands on her hips and turned her to
face him. “I see nothing on your nose, sweetheart. It must just be a smudge on
this copy.” He pulled the paper from her fingers and laid it aside. “But just
in case, I think I’d better check the rest of you, to make sure all the blue is
gone.”

“I’m fair to certain I’ll survive it, my lord.”

He shook his head and pulled her toward the bed,
then slipped a slingshot from her skirt pocket she must have confiscated from
one of the boys. “Uh, Darby?”

“Mm?”

“I want a favor.”

“Do ye now?”

“Promise not to get angry.”

She shook her head. “I never promise that. What
favor?”

He leaned down and kissed her neck. “Promise
me…that when I’m elected Governor…and the celebrating starts…”

“Aye?”

“That you’ll take the children on a vacation
somewhere—to Scotland maybe—for a few weeks.” He straightened and kissed the
end of her nose. “I don’t want ink or something on my pants, or my nose…in a
photograph they’ll hang in the halls of the State Capitol.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It won’t matter
how far in advance we plan, my love. I’m certain it will be too much to expect
of me.”

“To handle three children on your own?”

“Nay. Three could be done. But four is asking a
bit much, aye?”

He swallowed a now-familiar lump of emotion that
rose in his throat whenever their beloved children were discussed. “Four? You
mean… By then—”

“If, by then, you mean the middle of June, then
aye?”

Rand needed help to the edge of the bed. It was a
good thing he’d given the role of Phantom to Shadow long ago, because it looked
like his role of Father was going to last him a good long time.

~THE END~

Stick around for an excerpt from the

Brides of Diamond Springs Ranch series!

Exce
rpt
from
Bride School: Gen

Book 1

(Brides of Diamond Springs Ranch)

Gen tried to get everyone’s attention again, to
get to the next thing on the list, but failed. Eventually, she had little
choice but to reach into her lavishly beaded bag that hung from her wrist on a
cord and pull out her little Queen Anne gun. She slid the flint into place,
pointed it up, and fired.

She wasn’t sure if the sheriff fell off the steps
or jumped. But if she hadn’t been pointing her gun at the sky, most might have
thought she’d shot the man. At the very least, she had everyone’s attention.
They all waited, patient and bug-eyed, for her to blow a little heat off the
gun and replace it in her reticule.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” she gave her most
practiced, sweetest smile. “A whistle might have sufficed, but not at all
ladylike.” She took a deep breath and started again. “Of course, once the
ladies start arriving, Anderson’s store may need a bit of expanding. We’ll need
a large section for fabrics and notions alone.”

Another gasp. “Ladies?” An older woman croaked.
“Just what sort of ladies?”

The crowd hushed and leaned forward. The other
women who hadn’t yet heard her plans for Sage River were preparing to object.
Their bonnets nodded, conferred with other bonnets, then nodded in unison. The
men, on the other hand, were a bit too hopeful, even the ones standing next to
their wives. A few got an elbow in the ribs for the looks on their faces.

“Forgive me,” Gen said innocently. “I’ve gotten
ahead of myself.”

She cleared her throat and forced herself not to
look
his
way again, determined to wait until the right moment.

“In my good fortune, I have found a way to aid the
ranchers of the Wyoming territory especially, by starting up a finishing
school, of sorts, for the perfect western bride. I’ll be using my first late
husband’s ranch, of course. Diamond Springs.”

Don’t look yet.

“Fine young women will come here to be schooled in
our rather unique way of living, and men who can afford such brides will be
coming from all over the West.”

She took a deep breath and aimed a smile at
him
,
briefly, then looked back to her people. Because they were her people. She was
bringing a flood of good women and rich men to their little town and that meant
progress. And progress meant money for everyone. She’d bought their loyalty as
surely as if she’d thrown gold coins from her carriage as she drove through
town. But she was also buying their continued prosperity. For how could a
wealthy woman like her live in a place filled with poverty and suffering?

A familiar laugh from the past came from the
right. He and his men had moved forward, finally concerned enough to
participate in the conversation.

“I only see one thing wrong with my former
sister-in-law’s plans,” he said.

His smile devastated her at such close range, but
she took a deep breath and let the pinch of her corset keep her from doing
anything so foolish as to swoon. His dark eyes flickered over her briefly, then
he addressed the crowd as well.

The audience sobered.

“She doesn’t own my late brother’s ranch.” Devlin
shrugged. “I do.”

Gen kept her smile. The crowd turned to her in
unison, holding on to a thread of hope, waiting for her to deliver a solution.

“Well, Devlin,” she said, trying not to choke on
the name. “I’ve always been told that possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
She turned to the sheriff who had regained his station at the top of the steps.

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid to say, in
this territory, it’s closer to ten tenths of the law.”

She allowed her face to drop. The crowd sighed.

She took a few deep breaths, then looked up,
raising the brim of her hat as she did so, revealing a genuine smile she’d been
practicing for that very instant. For two years, the length of her forced
period of mourning, she’d been imagining that moment. She’d imagined Devlin’s
confused face, though not nearly as handsome as he was. And the reality of it
nearly lived up to her imagination. If he could have looked just a little more
heartbroken, it would have been perfect.

He’d called her his former sister-in-law.
Former.
So he’d tried to wipe away any memory of her, she realized. He had no relative
by the name of Genevieve Zollinger? Of course he had. She’d just added the name
of Carnegie to the end, that was all.

But his dismissal of their relationship was fine
by her. After all, she’d come to Sage River to ruin him, not for a family
reunion.

She savored the widening of his eyes when he saw
her satisfied smile. The folks encircling Devlin Zollinger held their breaths
along with him, and she drew the moment out like a piece of salt water taffy,
waiting for that instant when the rope of taffy might break, and fall, and
stick to everything around.

Then she scooped it up and shoved it down his
throat.

“That’s wonderful news, Sheriff Toller. Because,
as of...” She reached into her reticule and dug out a pocket watch. She peered
closely at it, then frowned at the sheriff, who came forward to compare his
watch with hers. Both watches read a quarter past ten.

“Because, as of ten o’clock this morning, Diamond
Springs Ranch...shall we say...
fell
into my possession.”

Devlin’s men laughed and slapped him on the back,
but he stood stiffly in spite of the crooked smile on his face. Gen had the
distinct feeling he was still holding his breath, afraid to imagine it might be
true.

She grinned wide, staring into his lovely,
frightened eyes, and nodded. Her hat bobbed dramatically. Once.

The people of Sage River gossiped in hushed tones
amongst themselves. The sheriff took an unsteady step away from her as if she
might be touched in the head. He tripped over a large stump that looked to have
been placed on the scaffolding a very long time ago. For multiple hangings, no
doubt.

“If you have Zollinger’s ranch,” a woman stepped
forward, “then what is the town hall for?”

Gen winked at the woman for her impeccable timing.
“Well, with all those brides, and all those potential grooms coming to court
them, we’ll need a place for them to dance, don’t you think? After all, men are
no longer allowed to set foot on Diamond Springs, so they’ll need somewhere to
do their courtin’.”

The crowd cheered, their hope restored. But Gen
expected them to be true believers in a minute or two.

She looked at her watch again. Those in the crowd
who owned watches, pulled them out as well, though they had no idea what all
the waiting was for.

It got quiet.

Devlin stood alone; his men had no doubt gone to
check on the ranch. But Gen was sure someone would be coming…

Horses. Lots of them. Headed through town. Not
slowing.

The noise grew louder and Gen feared that perhaps
the beasts would come around the corner with no riders at all. But that proved
not to be the case. A small army of cowboys finally brought their mounts to a
halt at the back of the crowd. A man at the head stood in his stirrups and
searched the crowd while Devlin made his way to him. Dev’s other men returned
still on foot. They’d hadn’t had a chance to get to their horses.

“We were attacked!” The mounted man said, loud
enough for everyone to hear.

“Attacked?” Gen hollered doubtfully. “Are you
certain?”

He looked at the scaffolding and his mouth popped
open and shut like a fish.

“Well?” The sheriff stepped forward to the edge of
the platform. “Were you attacked or not?”

Finally, the man shrugged and hung his head. He
mumbled something to Devlin.

“What did he say?” The crowd wanted to know. “What
was that?”

Someone nearer the horses stood on his toes and
addressed the rest. “He said, we lost the ranch—to a bunch of
women
!”

I~ ~ ~