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Authors: Linda Broday

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BOOK: Texas Mail Order Bride
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“I suppose,” she murmured slowly. “Just so we can be civil to each other. I don't want you to get the idea that I harbor any untoward ideas about love and marriage, though.”

He crooked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Just because you don't like women—”

“Hey, wait a cotton-pickin' minute. I never said I don't like women. I love 'em. For your information, I've kissed more than my share. Just don't intend to be married to one.”

Delta put her hands on her hips. “Well, don't get any ideas about kissing me.”

“You don't have to fret about that.” He glared. “Is this your way of burying the hatchet?”

“No, it's yours. Hackles indeed. I'm not a dog.”

Cooper would have to be as blind as a suck-egg mule not to see that. “It's plain this is a complete waste of time. I wish you a pleasant stay in Battle Creek…however long it is.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Thorne.”

He picked up the box that had fallen from her hands and finished loading the rest of the supplies, evading the green flames shooting from Delta's eyes. He was glad to get back on the road to the ranch, where it was more peaceful. The town was fast living up to its name.

Seven

News of the changes at Abercrombie's Mercantile spread, and it seemed everyone in town came by to see for themselves. Delta didn't have a quiet moment after Cooper left.

Granny Ketchum hobbled in and said someone had stolen her glasses. She couldn't see a blessed thing. It took forever to get rid of the dear woman, and it was only after Delta's promise to have a cup of tea with Granny that she finally left.

Midafternoon, Mr. Abercrombie went home, leaving her to lock up. That he entrusted the store to Delta thrilled her heart. He truly wasn't as mean as he wanted her to believe, just terribly sad and lonely.

Purple shadows had settled over the store and it neared quitting time when a tall, handsome man with a smile that could melt a ruthless killer's heart sauntered in.

She ignored her aching feet and stepped forward. “May I assist you, sir?”

“I'm in need of a pound of coffee.”

“Would you like me to grind it for you?”

“Please, if you don't mind.”

Delta opened a bin and scooped out the appropriate amount of coffee beans and put them in the grinder. She turned the wheel and in minutes they were a fine grind.

“Anything else for you, sir?”

“Have supper with me tonight, Miss Dandridge.”

The request took her aback. “I'm sorry, sir. I don't even know your name. And how do you know mine?”

His blue eyes twinkled as he took her palm in his hand and lifted it to his lips. “I'm Rand Sinclair. I own the Lily of the West Saloon. I believe you're acquainted with my brother, Cooper Thorne. You certainly put him in his place, by the way. And, besides, everyone in Battle Creek knows who you are by now. They're completely enamored with your grace and beauty.”

The man certainly knew how to turn a lady's head, she'd give him that. Not that she believed him for a second. She had only to look in the mirror to see she was passable, at best.

“I do declare. You're Cooper's brother?” Her mind raced. This would give her an opportunity to ask some questions.

“I am indeed. Not in the normal way, though. It's a long story and best told over a mouthwatering steak shared with a beautiful lady.”

The man was a silver-tongued devil, with his pretty compliments and winning smile. Still, it might be nice.

“You certainly have the market cornered on charm, Mr. Sinclair.” She tugged her hand free.

“Rand. And I can be most persistent. Please say yes.”

“I really shouldn't.”

“Don't you ever do anything wild and crazy?”

Did answering an ad in the
Matrimonial
Harvest
catalog count?

Delta chewed her lip. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything. Give me a minute to close up.”

Rand helped her blow out the lamps, and after locking the door, they strolled toward the Three Roses Café.

Seated across from him, Delta studied his face. She couldn't see even a speck of resemblance between him and Cooper. Rand had blue eyes, where Cooper's were a haunting gunmetal gray. Rand's hair was light brown, whereas Cooper's was the color of midnight. But then, Rand had said they weren't brothers in the normal way. She was curious about what that meant.

“You've never had a steak until you've had Rose's,” Rand said. “And you have to save room for her rhubarb pie. It's worth dying for.”

Delta's stomach rumbled, proclaiming its emptiness. She prayed Rand hadn't heard it. She hadn't eaten all day. “That sounds heavenly. I'll have mine on the done side.”

When the waitress came, Rand ordered for them, then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I want to hear all about you. What's a pretty woman like you doing so far from home, and why did you want to marry Coop?”

Her guard went up faster than flood waters in the Mississippi delta. “There's nothing really to tell. I'd hoped it wouldn't get all over town. I feel very foolish.”

“Don't worry on that count. Only three people know about that, and we're not saying a word.”

Three
people? Panic rose.

“I thought only you and Cooper knew. Who is the third person?” Gossip traveled, especially the kind that had the power to wound and destroy. She knew more than she wanted about that subject.

“Not to worry. Just my younger brother, Brett. Takes an act of God for him to talk to anyone, so you can relax. His horse ranch is not far from Cooper's. And I wouldn't say you're foolish. Something drives all of us to do the things we do.” His words were quietly spoken, and she sensed he referred to himself more than her.

Delta tightly gripped her cloth napkin, praying she wouldn't tell too much or Rand wouldn't dig too deeply. “I needed a fresh start after my mother's death. So when I saw the advertisement, I believed it an answer to a prayer.”

“You thought Cooper wrote the letters bringing you here.”

“I had no way of knowing otherwise. I don't regret coming, but I do wish I'd known the facts before I arrived.” She glanced around the small café. Nearly every table was filled. “This appears to be the place to gather.”

“It's not as if we have anywhere else. It's Rose's or Rose's.”

She laughed. “It's your turn now. You said Cooper was your brother, but not in the normal way.”

“We're blood brothers.” Rand explained how he, Cooper, and Brett had nicked their thumbs when they were boys and vowed nothing would ever separate them.

“And did it?”

“Nope. We wouldn't let anything come between us. It was us against the world, and we decided we were true brothers in every sense of the word. We face everything together.”

“You must be very close.”

“We're the only family each other have. Our bond is unshakable.”

Delta wished she'd had someone to stand with her when her misfortunes came. It would've made so much difference. But she'd had no one. No one she could talk to. No one to wipe her tears when she cried.

“How come you're the only one who didn't go into the ranching business? Why a saloon?”

“I got it at a steal and it was the only thing I really knew much about.” Rand's smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “It's just temporary. I have a hankering to be a rancher like my brothers. Just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“I think everyone should have a dream that they hold close and never let go.” Only hers would never come to pass. It was far too late.

“Yes, ma'am. Sure makes the nights less long and dreary.”

“Granny Ketchum told me about the Battle Creek Bachelors' Club that Cooper started. Are you a member also?”

“Yep. And Brett is too. We'll never settle down, and the only knot we'll tie is the one in a piece of rope. That's why Coop thought it so odd that you appeared out of the blue. It's as plain as day that someone played a cruel joke. Just wish we could figure out who.”

“If you think it might be helpful, I could let you, or Cooper if he asks politely, read the letters. Maybe there's something in them that would shed light on the person who wrote them.”

“That's a good idea, Miss Delta.” Rand was silent for a moment. When he spoke, the words were quiet. “Don't mind Cooper's rough ways. He likes to pretend he's all horns and rattles, but truth be told, he's real soft underneath.”

“I wouldn't know anything about that.” The man had only shown her his grouchy side.

“Just don't be too quick to judge him.”

It seemed a tad late for that request. Cooper Thorne was simply insufferable. To a fault. But he did have rather nice eyes, and lips that could probably make her tingle if he ever dared touch them to hers. Her face grew warm.

Goodness, what bold thoughts had popped in her head!

Their steaks arrived and they ate in silence. Rand hadn't exaggerated. The meal was the best she'd ever had.

Afterward, Rand escorted her to the boardinghouse like the true gentleman he was. She'd enjoyed both the food and the conversation. She'd made a friend and she'd learned a little more than she'd planned.

Upstairs in her room, she stared out into the darkness from her window, as had become her habit. A buggy appeared in her line of vision and came down the street. It was going a little too fast to negotiate around the burial plot and almost clipped the wrought iron fence that guarded the ghostly occupants. The middle of the street certainly wasn't a good place for the plot. But still, she would side with the folks who wanted to leave it where it was. There was something very wrong about disturbing the dead or creating misery for the living.

When the buggy faded from view, she turned her attention to Rand's saloon, the Lily of the West. The watering hole was brightly lit and doing a brisk business, judging from the number of horses tied to the hitching rail.

The building reminded her of an aging saloon girl whose dress was tattered and torn. In her mind, she saw a piece of lace dangling from the hem.

The small newspaper office sat next to it as though waiting for something to happen. A light burned faintly through the ink-smudged window. She wondered what the editor would find newsworthy in a town like this. It would be interesting to see.

Suddenly a thought sprang from the blue. Cooper Thorne hadn't smelled of whiskey when he returned for his supplies. If he'd had even one drink, she'd have smelled it on him when she fell into him. But she'd only caught the scent of saddle leather and fresh hay.

His reason for frequenting the saloon had to be to visit his brother Rand. The man with the steely gaze did not swill whiskey in broad daylight every chance he got.

She didn't know why, but that made her secretly happy.

***

Miles away, on the Long Odds Ranch, Cooper unsaddled Rebel and brushed down the buckskin. It'd been a long day and his troubles had gotten worse.

When he rode back from town with the supplies, he'd found Zeke waiting by the barn. The look on the grizzled cowboy's face had told the story even before he opened his mouth.

Zeke had found another dead cow. Cooper quickly saddled Rebel, and Zeke took him out to where the steer was located. One thing immediately became clear—the animal didn't have the Long Odds brand. In fact, it didn't wear any brand. And there were hoofprints all around it from more than one horse.

This was deliberate.

Someone had a ruthless plan to ruin him.

“Ain't one for speaking my mind, son,” Zeke had drawled. “But if it was me, I'd damn sure consider buying some of that newfangled barbed wire everyone is talkin' about and fencin' off the Long Odds.”

“If I'm not mistaken, you said you were against that.”

“Never thought I'd see the day when I said this. Fencin' goes against everything I know. I believe in the open range. But hell and be damned, a man has to use whatever tools he has to beat these yellow-livered varmints.”

Cooper stared at the old man as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns and was covered in red paint. Zeke had told him straight out when he was hired that if Cooper intended to fence off the ranch, he wanted no part of it and would be moseying down the road.

Maybe it was the solution, though.

Cooper pondered that now as he marched toward the house and the cold supper that awaited him. The muscles worked in his jaw. If someone wanted a war, they'd get one. He wasn't going anywhere. This land was his, bought and paid for in blood, sweat, and tears.

They just better heed a warning. He didn't intend to lose. He'd fight with every bit of strength and determination and grit he had in his body. Brett and Rand would stand with him.

Three against whoever was doing this were pretty good odds.

Eight

Delta woke in a good mood. Work at the mercantile agreed with her, and she found a deep satisfaction at the close of each day knowing that she was good at what she did. Despite the pain of Cooper's spurning that still brought an ache to her heart, she brimmed with optimism.

Business boomed at the store of late, people had accepted her, and she'd helped improve the town by making at least one establishment look less run-down.

Mr. Abercrombie was even beginning to grow on her, despite his gruffness.

The man was tallying some figures when she strolled in humming a tune. He looked up with his ever-present frown and growled like an old bear with a toothache.

“Good morning, Mr. Abercrombie. It's a glorious day.”

“Cain't you see I'm busy?” he snapped.

Paying him no mind, she drew her apron over her head and tied it. Today nothing would spoil her happiness. She had just gotten a clean rag, all set to tidy up the mess under some shelves behind the counter, when Granny Ketchum wobbled in.

“Good morning, Miss Dandridge.”

“Granny, how wonderful to see you.” Delta came out from behind the counter. “What can I help you with today?”

The old woman leaned heavily on her cane, making it bow out in the middle. “Someone stole my snuff can. Can you believe that? If they'd wanted some, all they had to do was ask. They didn't have to take it.” Granny gave a long-suffering sigh. “But they brought my cat back, so I can't complain too much.”

“That's good news.” Delta hid a grin. “So you came in to buy more snuff?”

“Nope. I'm giving up the habit. It's a sign from God. My Elmer, God rest his soul, always yapped about it being an unfit vice for a delicate woman like me. And I reckon he was right. 'Course, I wouldn't have told him so when he was alive. Wouldn't have been any livin' with the old coot.”

“No, ma'am. What can I help you with?”

“I want to buy a bell.”

“What kind of bell?”

“Oh, a small one.”

That didn't tell Delta anything. She had no earthly idea what kind of bell the woman was talking about. She tried another tack. “What are you going to do with this bell?”

“Why, put it around my cat's neck, of course, so he won't sneak up on me and scare me half out of my”—she looked around, then lowered her voice—“bloomers. I swear, I believe he does it on purpose just to see me jump.”

“I see. I think I have just what you want. You wait right here and I'll get it.” Delta walked to a shelf and took down a box of small bells. Surely one of these would satisfy.

“Do you have a place for me to sit?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Delta brought a chair from the back room. “Now you sit right here and take your time looking at these bells. Find the perfect one.”

Granny proceeded to ring each bell. She went through the whole box, then started over. “I just can't decide.”

In the midst of all the tinkling bells, the door opened and Cooper Thorne sauntered in. Delta's heart beat a little faster at the sight of the tall cowboy. Raw masculine heat as wild as the vast Texas land that she was coming to embrace radiated from him.

“Mr. Thorne, what do you need today?”

“Miss Delta.” His gray eyes held no warmth and the deep lines around his mouth were set. “Came to order some barbed wire. That is, if it can be ordered.”

“I don't know. I'll have to ask Mr. Abercrombie.” She looked around the store, but her boss had disappeared. She guessed all the racket had gotten on his nerves. “Is everything all right?”

“Things could be better. Would you mind just getting John?”

His curt tone set her back on her heels. The irritating rancher's lack of civility brought a quick reply to the tip of her tongue. But thankfully, she kept the words she itched to say to herself.

“I'll look in the back. Excuse me.” Though her words came out through clenched teeth, she kept her dignity.

Delta found Mr. Abercrombie and relayed Cooper's request.

“Dadblast it, I can't hear myself think with all this infernal bell ringing. Can you just hurry Granny out of here?”

“I'll do what I can, sir.”

Abercrombie and Cooper huddled together, then her boss got out a book and they pored over it. She assumed there was trouble of some kind on the ranch.

She turned her attention to the bell ringer. “Have you found the one you want, Granny?”

“I just don't know. They sound so much alike.”

If that was the case, then it didn't make much difference which one she chose. Delta picked up one that had a red ribbon tied to it. “I'm partial to this one. It has a real jingle.”

“I suppose so.”

“It's only a nickel. Can't beat that.”

“Yes, it'll do, I reckon.” Granny handed her the box of bells. After paying, the woman left and blessed quiet settled over the store. She just prayed Granny would get home with it before someone ambushed her and ripped it out of her hand. The poor lady was a dear, but she could get on a person's nerves.

“When can I expect it to arrive?” she heard Cooper ask Abercrombie.

“Two weeks, if I lay my hands on some down in San Antonio.”

“Fine. Go ahead and order it. Let me know the minute it comes in.”

Cooper's spurs jingled when he straightened, but instead of heading to the door, he moved toward Delta.

“Did you find what you wanted?” she asked.

“Yep. Just wish it didn't take so long to get here.” He took off his hat and held it between his hands. “Miss Dandridge, I apologize for being so short with you.”

“No need. We simply don't see eye to eye.”

“All the same, I would still like for us to be friends.”

“What kind of friends?”

“The sort that don't want to kill each other.”

She had to admit he'd sorely tried her patience, but the thoughts that invariably kept her awake at night were of kissing, not killing.

Sudden laughter bubbled up. “My dear Mr. Thorne, I'd never do anything involving blood loss.”

“I feel so much better now.” His mouth quirked up at one corner as if he wanted to smile but wouldn't let himself.

“You're very welcome.”

“So, this friends business…how about it?”

“For now, we'll see how it goes.”

Cooper nodded, adjusting his worn Stetson back on his head. “Guess I'll pay a visit to the saloon before I head back.”

“Speaking of that, I met your brother Rand. He's quite the charmer. Has lovely manners and is a perfect gentleman. He invited me to take supper with him last evening. We had an interesting conversation.” Let the man chew on that.

His face darkened. “I'll just bet.”

From the corner of her eye, Delta saw Mr. Abercrombie watching. His face got tighter and more furious with each passing second.

“Well, as absolutely fascinating as this conversation has been, I have work to do, Mr. Thorne.”

“Then I bid you good day.” He tipped the brim of his hat to her. The bell over the door tinkled when he left.

Despite the fact that she should count her blessings every day that she hadn't married him, she couldn't stop herself from hurrying to the window to watch him walk down the street. That loose-jointed saunter of his…
oh my
, it made her pulse race. It was a lot like watching a lazy river meander along its course as if it was in no hurry at all to get there.

Part of her would give anything—

Stop
it
right
there.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. No use thinking of things beyond her reach.

Snatching up her cleaning rag, she turned her attention to the unruly shelf. In removing every scrap of paper, every receipt, and every bit of clutter, she knocked a book to the floor. Something flew out.

Delta bent and picked up a small envelope. On the outside in flowing penmanship were the words
To
my
darling
John
.

Unsure what to do with it, yet sensing it was something important, she took the envelope to Mr. Abercrombie. “Sir, this fell out of a book when I was cleaning just now.”

“Well, what is it?” he snapped.

“It looks like a letter or something. Might be important.”

“Did you read it?”

“Of course not! I would never do that.”

The man jerked it from her. “I don't have time for such nonsense. You're always messing with my things, and I'll thank you to leave 'em alone.”

Anger rose. “Sir, you can be angry with yourself, or life, or your circumstances, but I've given you no cause to treat me worse than a guttersnipe. Whatever is inside that envelope is probably from your wife. The least you can do is look at it.”

Delta turned away, blinking back sudden tears. She didn't know why people, men especially, were so quick to criticize or sling blame. She'd faced more than one such man in her life. Langston Graham had been worst of all. She could say nothing to excuse the man who'd fathered her. He'd passed her on the street every day in Cedartown with no word, not a speck of kindness, not even so much as a smile. She'd been invisible to him.

A child he'd never wanted, much less acknowledged.

His utter scorn had turned her heart to stone.

Shaking herself, she forced her thoughts back to the present. She'd wasted enough tears on that matter. She put Langston Graham out of her mind and returned to her shelf.

When she next cast a glance at Mr. Abercrombie, it broke her heart. He stood clutching a paper valentine to his chest. Tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks. Her hunch had been right. He'd never seen it before.

She stood, undecided what to do. Though she longed to comfort the shopkeeper, she didn't want to intrude on his privacy, or worse, wound his pride.

All of a sudden, he crumpled to the floor, heaving great sobs. She quickly went and put an arm around his shoulders.

“I'm so sorry, sir. I shouldn't have—”

John Abercrombie's watery eyes met hers. “It's from Nell. A decorated valentine. This was probably one of the last things she did before she died the morning of February 15. Which book did you find it in?”

“Charlotte Brontë's
Jane
Eyre
.”

“That was her favorite book. She kept it in the store and read every spare minute. She must've stuck the valentine in there, intending to give it to me, but she passed too quickly. This means more to me than anything on earth. I'll always treasure this. Thank you for finding and insisting I open the envelope.”

“You're very welcome, sir.”

“You must think I'm a foolish old man.”

“Quite the contrary. I think you're still very much in love with your wife,” she said softly.

“Sometimes the yearning for her smile, the sound of her laughter, eats inside me with such a fierceness that I can barely stand it.”

“I feel the same about my mother.” Even though Phoebe Dandridge had never shown a lighter side.

“When did she pass over, if I'm not too bold?”

“Christmas Day.”

“Then your grief is as fresh as my own.” He clutched her arm. “Will you help me up?” Then he added, “Please. Before a customer comes in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stop with this ‘sir' business. I'm John. Plain and simple.”

Letting him rest his weight on her, she helped him to his feet.

What a surprising day. First Cooper had tried to mend burned bridges, and now Mr. Abercrombie was allowing deep emotion to show through his stern facade.

Delta had a feeling she may have reached a turning point with both men.

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