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Authors: Vanessa Vale

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"Hiram Johns." It was the first name that came to mind, the
name of the riding instructor at school in Denver.

The men looked at each other, but said nothing.

"The snow is to our advantage. They will not search for you
until the weather improves. Any trail you may have made is buried
under a foot of snow." Brody tipped his chair back onto two
legs.

"They will search in town and toward Virginia City, not this
way. At least not to start," Mason added.

"We have today at least, I expect, before they show," Brody
replied. The men glanced at each other briefly and seemed to speak to
each other without words.

"There is much to do."

I had a suspicion they weren't speaking about ranch chores.

CHAPTER FOUR

BRODY

I was standing at the pump sink washing the breakfast dishes while
Mason showed Laurel our collection of books. Our library wasn't
extensive, but something should interest her on a snowy day. The idea
of spending it with her was a perk neither I nor Mason, had
anticipated.
She
was a perk we had not anticipated.

The story Laurel told was a mixture of truth and lies. It was obvious
to me, and Mason as well, that
she was hiding something. Her name
was
Laurel. She'd told
us when we first brought her in from the cold without a chance to
think. I believed she was intended to marry a man not of her
choosing. I believed her father had made a business arrangement of
it. But that was all. There was no man named Hiram Johns in Simms or
even in the outlyi
ng areas. No one moved into the area without
the news of it spreading like wildfire at the mercantile. Everyone at
Bridgewater had a vested interest in keeping abreast of the latest
news, especially relating to new faces. Evers, our former regimental
leader, was always at the back of our minds and whether the bloody
bastard would track us down halfway around the world and find us.
He'd pinned his heinous crimes from our military stint in Mohamir, a
small middle eastern country, on Ian and it was only a matter of time
before the past returned. We'd fled to the United States, traveled
all the way to the Montana Territory to find a swath of land we
called Bridgewater. We ran it together, our common home. We were
always vigilant
for danger of any
kind
.

That was why we knew Laurel was not who she said. Pushing her would
not bring answers. Well, it could, but then we'd have a woman who
hated us and that was most certainly
not
in our plans. We
wanted Laurel to like us. Very much. She would be our bride as soon
as the weather cleared. She'd tell us the truth, in time. I chuckled
to myself. She was a terrible liar. She'd most likely slip up soon
enough.

Rinsing the coffee mug, I turned it upside down on a cloth to dry.

As for the man she was to marry, Laurel's reaction to him was enough
for us to keep her as far away as possible. A fifty-year old man only
wanted a young woman, a virgin, like Laurel for only one reason.
Hell, all men wanted Laurel for the same reason, including Mason and
me. I wanted to fuck her over and over again until my need for her
was sated. I'd even tie her to the bed as she'd said the man would
do. Even keep her there until her belly swelled with a baby we'd
made.

We weren't sadistic. We weren't thinking only of ourselves. Mason and
I were thinking of Laurel, of her pleasure. Her needs. Her desires. I
doubted the bastard would think of her at all after he fucked her, or
during for that matter. In fact, knowing his kind, he'd have a
mistress or two on the side, ensuring Laurel's value and self-worth
were always in question.

Running away had been her only option. If both her father and
intended husband were as committed to the business arrangement as
she'd said and she hadn't run off, Laurel would be married right now.
The thought of that had my breakfast settling in my stomach like a
heavy river rock.

She could have died. She
would
have died if Mason hadn't gone
out for firewood. I wasn't a man to think of things like fate or
destiny, but she'd literally fallen at our doorstep. She was ours.

I wiped down the table with a damp cloth, thinking of our time in
bed. Although Laurel was clearly unaware, we'd claimed her then and
there. Her body was so lush and curvy my cock was rock hard. Again.
She'd tasted as sweet as her breathy little moans of pleasure. Her
skin was silky soft and I wanted to learn every inch of it. Seeing
her come for the very first time was something I'd never forget. So
was the look on her face when she'd seen her very first cocks. Ours.
Knowing our seed coated her breasts and belly was akin to marking
her, branding her as ours.

With these thoughts running through my head, I scrubbed the table
with a little extra vigor. Glancing out the window, I watched the
snow fall, but it had tapered off to just flurries. The sun was
brilliant and sparkled on the thick, fresh coating of white. Looking
outside was almost too bright for my eyes. Squinting, I could see
across the ranch to the other houses. In the near distance, I could
see someone approaching. He was on foot, trudging through the deep
drifts, coat collar lifted up around his neck, hat low over his face.
It was only when he stomped his boots on the back porch that I could
see it was Andrew.

Tossing the dishcloth over my shoulder, I opened the door for him.
The man stepped in with a swirl of cold air behind him. He shut the
door firmly to keep the warmth inside. Placing his hat on a peg by
the door, he looked up at me and smiled.

"Quite the storm," he commented.

Andrew and Robert also lived on Bridgewater. They were married to
Ann, who'd given birth to their first child only two months ago. They
were the Americans of the group; we’d met them in Boston directly
after our arrival in the country. Besides them, Bridgewater was home
to Ian and Kane, who married Emma over the summer. Other members of
our regiment were Simon, Rhys and Cross. MacDonald and McPherson were
new to Bridgewater, having arrived just last summer. It was quite the
week when we'd thought Evers had found Ian. Instead, it was Simon's
brother and friend.

"Two feet?" I guessed, glancing out the window.

"Easily."

"Is everyone all right?" I asked. Ann was well after
birthing Christopher and the lad was thriving, but it was a
vulnerable time for both of them.

He nodded. "Besides being tired, everyone is well. I should be
asking that of you. I heard a shot last night. You're the closest
house and thought it would have come from here."

"It did. An interesting turn of events."

He ran his hand over his beard and watched me closely, unsure if it
was good news or bad.

"Take off your boots and I’ll tell you."

I told him about Mason's trip to the woodpile, the discovery of
Laurel and her predicament.

"I've never heard of a Hiram Johns."

"Neither have I," I replied.

"Then who the hell is she? She didn't just fall out of the sky."

I shrugged. "Based on the weather, she couldn't have been riding
more than a few hours, so she had to have come from somewhere near
Simms. Don't worry, the story will come out."

Andrew grinned. "I have no doubt of that."

I patted the man on the shoulder. "She's the one, Andrew.

His eyebrows went up in surprise. "You're sure?"

"We're sure. I'm not going to punish her for her secrets. That
will gain us nothing. I want her biddable. If she's going to be ours,
she needs to start her training now."

Andrew's eyebrows went up in surprise as he placed his boots in front
of the cast iron stove to warm. "You've fucked her?"

I frowned. "Hell, no."

My friend held up his hands in surrender.

"We're honorable enough to wait until she's truly ours before we
claim her. That doesn't mean we can't show her our ways."

MASON

There was no way in bloody hell I'd let her put her dress back on.
Seeing her in just my shirt only made her even more mine. Ours.
Knowing she wore nothing underneath, that her pretty nipples were
poking against the material, that the red curls on her pussy were
easily accessible, had me hard. Hell, even after I'd spent my seed on
her I was still hard. She was marked. Besides her unique floral,
sweet scent, she smelled of fucking. I couldn't wait to mark her on
the inside as well by filling her delectable pussy with my cum. I
knew Brody felt the same.

Before Andrew left, he'd invited us to their house for the evening
meal, which was good because Laurel would see the dynamic Ann had
with two husbands. Regardless of her past, Laurel was going to be our
wife. She was a horrendous liar; every emotion she felt flitted
across her face—indecision, wariness, even deceit. She
was
deceiving us by keeping secrets.

"What do you think?" I asked Brody, my voice low. Laurel
was in the bath in the washroom. We were downstairs adding logs to
the fireplaces and stoves to keep the house warm.

He glanced up at the ceiling as if he could see her through it. "I
believe everything except her father's name. Never heard of him."

"Neither have I. If she ran away, she can't be protecting him.
She's protecting herself. But why? We saved her from certain death.
We wouldn't hurt her."

Brody shrugged. "She doesn't know that."

I frowned at the thought. We'd never hurt a woman. Never. Everyone at
Bridgewater protected women. Cherished them. "Then we must show
her. She's so bloody beautiful." I ran a hand over my beard.
"Her hair is memorable. If she's been living around here, we'd
have known."

Brody nodded. "Every man within a hundred miles would be after
her."

"Good thing she ended up here."

"Where did she come from?"

I didn't have an answer. Only Laurel would be able to tell us.

"She's ours," Brody growled.

"No question. So we wait for her to tell us?"

Brody opened the door on the stove in the kitchen, stuffed a log in
and shut it. He tossed the cloth he'd used to protect his hand on the
table. "Does the past really matter?"

I shook my head. "I'd rather train her than question her,
wouldn't you?"

"Hell, yes. I spoke to Andrew before he left. They'll help any
way they can."

***

An hour later, I carried a bundled up Laurel into Andrew and Robert's
house. Her coat was still damp and I'd cut the laces of her boots so
we wrapped her in a blanket to keep warm on the walk. It was a short
distance, only five minutes, but the air was crisp and the sun had
set offering no additional warmth. The trio met us at the doorway and
took our things, the scent of stew and baked bread filled the air.
There was a roaring fire in the hearth and it was warm and
comfortable. Since their marriage to Ann, the house had turned into a
home.

"It is good to see you again, Laurel," Andrew said. "May
I introduce Robert and our wife, Ann? Christopher is in the cradle
near the fireplace, napping."

Robert had dark hair and a beard similar to mine, although he was
shorter and stockier than I. Ann was petite with pale blond hair.
Since the birth of baby Christopher her slim figure had filled out
and was quite lush.

"Hello," Laurel responded shyly. She stood there in my
shirt and a pair of Brody's socks, her hair pulled back into a long
braid down her back with a piece of rope as a tie.

"I've heard you've had quite an adventure," Ann said,
looking to Laurel with frank interest. Women were few and far between
in these parts, Ann only having Emma nearby.

"We were hoping to borrow some clothing, if you wouldn't mind,"
I told her.

Ann smiled. "Would you like to come upstairs and see if
something might work? The baby should be asleep for some time yet and
the men will watch him."

Laurel looked to Brody, then me, for assurance.

"The others will be here soon." When she frowned in
confusion, I added, "The others that live here at Bridgewater.
The meals are usually at Ian and Kane's house, but we've shifted here
because of the baby and the weather. You can go with Ann,
sweetheart."

Brody nodded his agreement and the two women left the room and we
heard their footfall on the stairs. It pleased me to see her look to
us for approval, although we weren't the kind of men who expected
their wife to cede to them with their every decision. We wanted
Laurel to be submissive to us, not meek.

"She's lovely," Andrew commented.

"Know a man named Hiram Johns?" Brody asked.

Robert led us to the chairs that faced the fire. As we sat, he
answered. "Andrew shared Laurel's story. The name is not
familiar to me."

The other men agreed with me that she was lying. It wasn't just a
feeling on my part. It was obvious to all. I rested my forearms on my
thighs. "If she’s lying, it could be to protect him." I
didn't want to believe this, even assume it.

"She ran away. I think she's protecting herself," Brody
added.

"If she really is part of a business contract, they'll come
looking for her," Robert said.

"Whoever
they
are," Andrew grumbled.

"We'll be ready," I vowed.

CHAPTER FIVE

LAUREL

"I was surprised at first. I thought I was married to just
Andrew and I soon learned Robert was my husband as well," Ann
shared, taking a dress from a hook on the wall and bringing it over
to me. We were in her bedroom, the room I assumed she shared with
both men. The room didn't appear out of the ordinary, although their
marriage certainly was.

"Did you grow up dreaming of two men?"

She shook her head and smiled dreamily. "Oh no. Here at
Bridgewater is the only place I know of where a woman has multiple
husbands. I...like it. Very much. My husbands are
most
attentive."
She handed me the dress.

BOOK: Their Wayward Bride
6.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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