To Bed A Montana Man (Montana Men)

Boston
, 1879

Rain stung her cheeks as she lifted her head to get her bearings. Shielding her eyes from the downpour, she still couldn’t read the street signs. Allison Lake’s hands trembled as numbing cold sank into her bones. A noise from the alley momentarily made her forget her discomfort. She started to run. Her wool cape, now soaked, clung to her slender body. The fabric of her evening dress dripped water, making it even more difficult to move.

Lightning forked across the sky. The crack of thunder echoed through the streets. She startled, but she continued to run. She was almost home, her house only a half block down the street. Footfalls sounded close behind her. Or maybe it was the rain pelting the cobblestones.

“Allison, wait.”

She turned to see Henry Oakdale quickly closing in on her.

“Stay away from me,” she cried, her tears mingling with the rain. “I went looking for you…in the study. I saw you.”

Bending over, Henry braced his hands against his thighs and struggled to catch his breath. “You’re mistaken.” Straightening, his gaze raked up her body. “My father forbids anyone from entering his sanctuary when he is away.”

“I saw you!” She pulled her wrap more tightly around her, protecting herself from his open assessment of her clinging, wet dress. “Leave me alone, or I swear I’ll tell. Your little secret will become grist for the gossip mill.”

“Go home, Allison, I believe you will remember differently after a night of reflection.” Gripping her wrist, he brought his thin lips to her frigid fingers. He held tightly as she tried to pull away.

“You’re hurting me,” she whimpered.

“I’m capable of a great many things.” His eyes narrowed. “As you have discovered. On the morrow, I will confirm our engagement. I was with
you
tonight. And do not pretend to not understand my meaning. Our parents will insist on a quick marriage. Imagine our wedding night.” His lips pulled into a sneer. “Or perhaps now no imagination is needed.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I most certainly will. Our future is set.”

Allison couldn’t take that chance. She wouldn’t.

So a few hours before sunrise, she quietly left her bedroom. She tiptoed down the stairs and carefully opened the door to her father’s study. With a silver letter opener, she plied the lock loose from the second drawer. Beneath papers and a box of expensive cigars was a small pocket of cloth sewn into the liner of the drawer. Tearing the cloth in haste, her fingers trembled as she took the key and crossed the room.

A small end table with a beautifully carved wood façade hid her father’s house money. When she was little, he had often let her play with the gold and silver coins while he worked at his desk. She knew there was a lot more than coins. She placed the key in the hidden lock and opened the safe. She took enough money to get far away from Henry, and left a note to both her mother and father in its place. There would be no society wedding, no merging of two prominent families. She wrote them the truth. Whether they ever believed her or not, mattered not.

Slipping out of the house, into the sleeping city, she made her way through the dark streets of Boston to the train station. “One way, please.”

“To where, Miss?” the attendant asked.

Gray smoke curled around the engines of trains waiting to depart. Men in top hats and women dressed in fine traveling clothes walked the platform. They seemed so casual, knowing where they were going. She didn’t know where she was going. She only knew she couldn’t stay.

“A ticket west on the first train out.”

Chapter One

Montana
Territory
, 1879

Allison’s stomach turned over twice a minute, anxiety raced along her nerves. Ten long, lonely days finally ended as the train whistled and screeched its way into Copper City. She had finally arrived. Only…where in the world was she?

She stepped from the platform. An uneven board caused her to lose her footing. Her ankle twisted. She gave a squeal as someone’s fingers pressed into the soft flesh under her arms. Her first thought was of the money she had hidden beneath the tightness of her corset. However, she quickly quelled those thoughts as the same strong fingers lay perilously close to her breast.

“Release me,” she said regaining her balance and spinning around. Any further comment stuck in her mouth. Standing before her was a man as large as the Montana Territory.

“Excuse me, Ma’am. Meant no harm, just wanted to keep you from a tumble.” Full lips tilted into a beguiling smile.

“Thank you.”

He tipped his cowboy hat and moved off down the platform.

Allison couldn’t help but watch him walk away. His shirt stretched across the distinct muscles of his back, drawing her attention to his narrow waist and slim hips. Feeling an unfamiliar heat climbing up her neck, she turned and hurried from the platform.

Throughout the bustling town, heavy smoke from the mines drifted through the air in visible layers. Coal stoves spewed black dust from roofs of clapboard structures. Saloons lined the streets. And the whores who worked in the rooms above stood in front of their business establishments wearing corsets and lace, advertising sins of the flesh for a price.

This was going to be home. While on the train, she’d considered all she’d left behind, but also the adventure that awaited her. The fantasy had been much different from her reality. This wasn’t Boston by any measure. Country women were dressed in serviceable clothing; drab, heavy wool skirts without adornment and blouses buttoned to the neck. Clothing suited for work in their homes, not socializing in lady’s clubs as her mother did. And unlike home, there wasn’t going to be anyone to help her dress, mend her stockings, or launder her gowns.

And no one to cook her favorite treats. She was hungry and tired, and the money tucked in the folds of her dress and the few pieces of jewelry in her clutch weren’t going to last long. Never having been responsible for herself, she had plenty to learn about life in the West.

First—a place to stay. Permanent living arrangements could wait a few days, but she needed to clean up, rest, and get a job.

The town was much bigger than she had anticipated. A general mercantile butted up next to the bank. She had some experience with a needle and thread. Surely, there was a need for a seamstress. With a town full of men working in the mines, she was bound to find a job.

Allison walked to the hotel.

“I’d like a room.” She looked at the front deskman across from her. Hotel work would pay a modest amount and perhaps she could earn room and board. She could clean the rooms, or work at the front desk. A flutter of excitement tickled her belly. Endless possibilities awaited her.

“Pay by the month and get a five dollar discount.” The clerk read a paper and didn’t look up. “Room gets cleaned once a week.”

“That’ll be fine.” Allison pulled the drawstring of her purse and retrieved a few bills. “May I inquire if you’re hiring?”

“No.”

“No, I can’t ask or no, you aren’t hiring?”

“No, we ain’t hiring.”

She sighed. “Thank you. How much for a month?”

“Ninety-five.”

“Dollars?” she asked, shocked.

The clerk nodded. “Three-fifty a night, twenty-five dollars a week, or ninety-five for the month.” Exasperated, he finally looked up at her. “Do you want a room?”

She nodded. “One night, please.” She carefully counted out the money. Change of priorities, find a place to live and try to find a job at the same time.

Once settled in her room, Allison took a bath and headed out. The town bustled with people and construction, but not the stone or brick buildings of Boston. Most were wooden structures. She entered the mercantile and approached the counter. “Do you have a bulletin board?”

The plump woman behind the counter nodded to the far wall. Allison thanked her, crossed the room, and glanced over the few pieces of paper. A knot grew in the pit of her stomach. There was plenty of work. Work for men who were prepared to break their backs working in the mines or willing to travel to the fields to work with the ranchers. There were also a few jobs for skilled labors, skills she didn’t possess.

“Excuse me,” she said to the woman. “I’m looking for a job.” Allison pointed to the bulletin board. “I don’t see any work for women. Do you know of any jobs around town for a lady?”

The woman laughed, making her stomach bounce, and revealing the gap in her dark yellow, front teeth. “There’s always work at the saloon. I guess you don’t look like the kind of girl needin’ work around here.”

Allison hoped she hid her horror, keeping it from her expression by pressing her lips together. No need to panic, there was always opportunity for a person willing to work hard.

“I don’t suppose you’re hiring.” Allison stood at the counter, resting her arms along the smooth, polished wood.

“No, I don’t suppose I am.” The woman came from behind the counter.

“Then perhaps you know of a boardinghouse or room I could rent for a modest amount?”

The woman chuckled again. “Honey, ain’t nothin’ affordable around here. Haven’t you heard? We’ve got ourselves a copper rush? Two hundred men a week come into town. You’ll be lucky to find a stall in a stable.” She took a feather duster and began sweeping it along the shelves full of merchandise. Bolts of fabric, clocks, and farm equipment filled tables running the center of the store. Food items lined one wall. Cans of beans and bags of coffee, sugar, and flour piled high behind the counter. There were brooms in a canister next to the door as well as shoes stacked in boxes in front of the large picture window at the front of the store.