Bartered Bride Romance Collection (40 page)

“Hey, Jim!” Luke shouted. “Bring that gal back to the house. Everyone’s waitin’ to congratulate you!”

Matty wanted to sink under a fence post, but she just ducked her head and tried to hide her tear-streaked cheeks.

Jim cradled her close. “You’re being a pest, Luke. Sweethearts deserve a bit of time alone.”

“You’re as bad as Pa was with Ma.”

“It’s the Collingswood way, and you know it. When we fall, we fall hard.”

Matty leaned into his warmth and strength and wished his words were more than pretense to salvage their pride.

“Now that he’s gone, I have a few things to say to you,” Jim whispered against her temple.

Each word made her tremble.

“My parents had a solid marriage. No one could look at them for more than a heartbeat without knowing they loved each other. Luke wasn’t teasing—he sees that same spark between us.”

“Luke’s a nice man, but his opinion doesn’t count for much in this matter.”

Jim chuckled. “Matty, my darlin’, I fought tooth and nail against falling in love with you because you deserve better than living out here in the wilds with a bunch of rough men. Problem was, my heart didn’t pay any attention to my mind.

“You can’t begin to imagine how many sleepless nights I’ve spent in the stable, wrestling with God over this. The day of the barbecue, I made an utter fool of myself because I couldn’t bear to think of you leaving here, let alone think of you leaving here with another man.”

“You were simply being protective.”

“I was protective—of your sisters. You? Oh, Matty, I was downright, unashamedly possessive of you. Haven’t you noticed the way I’ve been assigning chores, just so we could be together?”

“I didn’t know what to think. Corrie told me to guard my heart since you were trying to get rid of us.”

He groaned. “I was an idiot. I went to that trial today ready to do whatever I had to, to make up for my foolishness and keep you here. I’d sell every last horse and cow to pay off Ellis, get down on my knees, and beg you to stay. And if all of that failed, I was going to bribe your sisters so they’d nudge you into my arms. If you don’t have the sense to run from me, I’m going to lasso you and drag you to the altar.”

“You don’t have to.”

He cupped her chin and growled. “I want to.” Before she could reply, he branded her with a toe-curling kiss. When he lifted his head, he whispered, “Matty, God knows the desires of our hearts even better than we do. Why can’t you trust Him to do a work in your heart so you can learn to love me back?”

His words made her heart sing. Matty nestled close and confessed, “I already do love you.”

“It’s about time!”

After they kissed again, Jim put his arm around her waist and started to lead her toward the house. “Jim?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“You don’t have to lasso me.”

He threw back his head and started to chuckle. “I suppose not. I should have seen it from the start. I ordered a halter. Instead, God sent you to meet me at the altar. You can’t escape His will any more than I could.”

“I don’t even want to. You’re every wish and prayer I ever had for my husband.”

Epilogue

T
en days later, it was the Sunday for Parson Harris to complete his circuit and preach in Lickwind. Instead of a standard service in the jailhouse or one out by the railroad tracks, he and the township all went out to the Rough Cs. Bess made it quite clear no sister of hers would ever get married in a saloon, and the porch would make a nice setting for a wedding.

Bertie didn’t want to wear a fancy dress and carry flowers, so the Craig sisters managed to compromise as only they could. Bertie agreed to wear a new blue-and-green-striped dress and carried Rhubarb, who sported a ribbon to match. Next came Bess, looking somehow softer than usual in a violet dress with lavender trim. Ramon trotted by her side with great dignity in spite of the fact that his fur had been trimmed so it looked like a bunch of cotton bolls. Corrie was maid of honor in an appropriately sedate gray and mauve gown. Rhubarb’s kittens filled the beribboned basket she carried, which managed to hide her tummy quite discreetly. The sisters lined up on the veranda and watched as Jim tried not to look impatient.

The open windows allowed the strains of “The Wedding March” to filter out. Harry, the barkeep, knew the tune and had volunteered to play it on the piano. Matty appeared on Luke’s arm. She wore a wondrous white satin creation that sounded like the brush of a thousand angel wings as she walked toward Jim.

He could see her bright smile beneath the sheer veil. Over the past days, they’d not had to hide their feelings for one another, and she came to him now with her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Dearly beloved,” Parson Harris began.

Matty and James exchanged a tender smile and mouthed the words to one another. Indeed, they were dearly beloved of one another and of the Lord.

Gooseberry Jam

3 pounds gooseberries, slightly underripe, stemmed and washed

1 pint water

3 pounds cane sugar

¼ ounce butter

Gently simmer gooseberries and water for about 30 minutes until soft and reduced. Pulp with wooden spoon or potato masher. Remove from heat and add sugar to fruit pulp. Stir until dissolved. Add butter. Bring to boil and boil rapidly for about 10 minutes. Stir to keep from scorching. When setting point is reached, take pan off heat and skim surface with slotted spoon. Pour into freshly boiled jars and seal.

Cathy Marie Hake is a Southern California native. She met her two loves at church: Jesus and her husband, Christopher. An RN, she loved working in oncology as well as teaching Lamaze. Health issues forced her to retire, but God opened new possibilities with writing. Since their children have moved out and are married, Cathy and Chris dote on dogs they rescue from a local shelter. A sentimental pack rat, Cathy enjoys scrap-booking and collecting antiques. “I’m easily distracted during prayer, so I devote certain tasks and chores to specific requests or persons so I can keep faithful in my prayer life.” Since her first book in 2000, she’s been on multiple best-seller and readers’ favorite lists.

FROM CARRIAGE TO MARRIAGE

by Janelle Burnham Schneider

Dedication

To my own two babies, Elisabeth and Johnathan,
who are growing into beautiful young people,
and to their dad and my best friend, Mark, who won’t let me give up.

Chapter 1

L
uke Collingswood dragged himself out of the bed that had proved no friendlier in the past six hours than it had in the past fifteen nights. He grunted as he pulled on long underwear and then a worn flannel shirt. Now that he had his own room in the ranch house, rather than sleeping in the barn with his brother, his sleep should be more restful. But warmth and comfort weren’t enough to settle his mind.

Jim and Matty’s marriage had sealed the destiny of the four sisters. The thought terrified Luke. He couldn’t wish Matty gone. She’d brought too much light and joy to his solemn brother’s life. And Bess would thrive no matter where she found herself. The woman wouldn’t permit it any other way. Young Bertie had enough of the wild mustang in her that she’d likely do right well in Wyoming. But the little widow with the baby on the way caused Luke enough concern for all four of them. He just couldn’t see how Corrie would survive in this harsh place.

He tried to push the thoughts aside as he poked kindling into the cookstove and waited for the banked embers to turn to flame. Once the fire caught, he added some larger chunks of wood to ensure the stove would be hot and the kitchen warm when the sisters came down to begin breakfast preparation. Quietly, he grabbed his coat and slipped out the back door toward the chicken coop. Gathering eggs was definitely women’s work, and Jim would rib him severely if he caught him. But Luke knew gathering eggs was Corrie’s chore. He also knew from the shadows under her eyes each morning that nights proved no more restful for her than they did for him. The least he could do was save her the trip out into the cold.

Such a wealth of sorrow lay in the widow’s blue gaze.

Luke had always been drawn to the wounded creatures on their ranch. He’d even developed a knack for healing them—so much so that neighboring ranchers often asked for his assistance. However, it would take a lot more than warm mash or Matty’s special liniment to set little Corrie to rights.

He’d seen what this country did to fragile women. He’d helped two neighbors bury their wives. His own mother, sturdy of both soul and body, had returned east as soon as possible after Pa’s death. He’d pondered writing to see if Ma would take in the Widow Taylor but dismissed the idea instantly. One had only to spend a day around Corrie and Matty to see the bond between them. Corrie simply wouldn’t survive separation.

As he left the henhouse with a full basket of eggs, he noticed a figure walking swiftly toward the barn. Jim? While Luke loved early morning hours, Jim was rarely at his best until he’d had his coffee and his breakfast. Something of importance must have enticed him out of his bed so early. Luke set the basket of eggs just outside the chicken yard then quietly followed his brother. He pulled the barn door open slowly so the hinge wouldn’t squeak then almost let it bang shut in his delight at what he saw. His brother, who had strongly resisted the sisters’ plea for a milk cow, now hunched on the milking stool, sending streams of milk into the tin bucket. Luke backed away from the barn, grinning. In the tradition of Collingswood men, Jim had obviously given his heart away in full. Only love would put Jim to work milking, rather than herding or butchering, a cow.