Their Treasured Bride (2 page)

I was verra tall, taller than average, but once standing, she only
came up to my chin. She tilted her head back to look up at me over
the brim of her hat. I felt her try to step back out of my grasp, but
I held her a moment longer than necessary. In that time, I wondered
what she'd feel like without the confining stays—if she'd be as
wonderfully curvy and lush as I imagined.

Kane led her horse to stand beside the others at one of the hitching
rails. We'd come from various parts of the ranch for the noonday meal
and would disburse again once we'd eaten.

"There has been a mistake on the paper," I said.

Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. "No, no mistake."
Her voice was a little less sure than before.

I held up my hand. "I dinna doubt the validity of this document,
nor your brother's intentions behind it in his letter to me. I will
honor both. I will honor
you
."

While her shoulders didna droop, I could sense relief in her. Relief
nae that we would remain wed, but perhaps more that she was nae being
rejected. Thousands of miles was a long way to travel to be spurned.

"The error is that it is solely my name as groom. Connor,"
I called.

While I kept my eyes on Rebecca, I heard footsteps on the wooden
stairs, then across the hard packed ground. Rebecca's eyes shifted
from me to Connor, who now stood beside me.

"May I introduce the former Miss Rebecca Montgomery, our bride?"

"Our...
our
?" She frowned, the first sign of emotion
she shared. "I do not understand."

"You are nae just married to me." I tilted my head in
Connor's direction. "You are also married to Connor."

Her mouth fell open so I could see a straight line of white teeth as
she glanced between the two of us. When Connor nodded his agreement,
I saw the color drain from her face and she fainted dead away, right
into his arms.

CHAPTER TWO

REBECCA

"She's coming awake now." I heard the words, but chose to
ignore them. I was on a comfortable bed and didn't wish to wake. The
beds in the boarding houses and hotels had been lumpy or hard, but
this bed was soft and comfortable.

"Do you think she has fainting spells often?"

It was men's voices I heard. Men? Fainted? I never fainted. Did they
think I had a weak constitution? Whoever they were needed to be told
otherwise. I never got sick, never fainted, not even in a false swoon
to draw attention like some of the vapid girls I knew from school.

When my eyes fluttered open, I realized instantly I wasn't on a bed,
I wasn't in England or some remote boarding house and I had most
definitely fainted.

Looming over me were two men carefully watching me. They knelt on the
floor before me, as I was laid out on a couch, but given their large
sizes, I still looked up at them. I pushed up to sitting and the room
spun briefly.

"Nay, dinna rush. Ye dinna wish to faint again," the
fair-haired one said. He was Dashiell McPherson and he was my
husband. He was quite attractive.

I had worried of my brother's decision to marry me to him ever since
Chicago. Would he join me to a man I found unappealing? Would he
shackle me to someone who was cruel, or gambler, or a drunk? I could
not say about the latter, but he was definitely appealing. Like his
hair, his eyes were fair. Small crinkles formed as if he smiled with
his eyes along with his mouth. A rugged face disguised this hint of
gentleness. His jaw was square, his nose long, his lips full. I
caught myself staring at his mouth and realized how brazen that was.
I pulled my shoulders back as I felt my cheeks flush.

"I do not faint," I replied, folding my hands in my lap.

The corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile. "Nay. Of course
you dinna."

"We gave you quite a shock. It's nay wonder ye fainted. If I
found myself before two bonnie lasses who I was married to, I'd faint
dead away to be sure." Where the other was light, Connor was
dark. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin. Everything about him was
larger—if that were even possible—and while he took up more
space, he seemed more relaxed, more at ease than his counterpart. His
joking response confirmed this assessment.

Obviously, Connor—I didn't even know his last name—was trying to
make light of the situation, however it was impossible to do. They
were adamant I was
married
to both of them. It was a
completely insane notion! "Surely I misheard earlier. I can'tt
be wed to two men."

"Ye are wed to me," Mr. McPherson pointed at his chest,
"but here at Bridgewater, we follow the strict and honorable
Mohamiran rules of marriage where a woman is protected within the
union by more than one man."

"Mohamir? You are referring to the country near Persia?"

Both men nodded. "Aye. We were stationed there, along with yer
brother, with our regiment," Connor replied. "Surely
Montgomery told ye of our connection on yer journey."

He had, but I was not offered time to reply, for a woman spoke from
the doorway.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Connor, give her some room. You're too
big by half to be looming, even if you're kneeling on the floor."

He looked chagrined and a little disappointed, but stood and moved as
requested. I had to tilt my chin back to look at his shoulders.

"I am Emma and this is little Ellie. She's teething so you've
caught her at a happy moment, otherwise she's fussy and crabby."
She sat down, forcing Mr. McPherson to stand and move back as well to
avoid being caught in a swirl of her skirt. "I am used to the
men with and their brogues, but it is wonderful to hear a woman speak
such a lovely accent. Yours sounds much more like Kane's than Ian's,
therefore I assume you are English."

Her daughter, perhaps seven or eight months old, sat on her lap
happily chewing on a large crust of bread, drool dripping down her
chin and onto her tiny dress.

"Yes," I replied. "I am from London, but attended
school in Shropshire." Ellie diverted my attention; even a woman
with my reserve couldn't help but soften at the sight of a baby. She
had her mother's dark hair and pale blue eyes.

"I am married to Kane—" Emma began.

"And to me." A very brawny man came in the room then, eyes
solely on the baby. He scooped her up into his arms and gave her a
little nuzzle. "I am Ian and ye are welcome here. We were about
to have our noon meal when ye arrived and I'm sure ye are hungry."
He turned his warm gaze upon his wife. "Come lass, let's let her
men tend to her."

Ian held out his hand and Emma took it. He led her from the room as
he held the happy baby, but Emma offered one last glance back at me,
and smiled.

I was quite unused to people being concerned for me. The boarding
school I'd attended had not been a place of warmth or caring. Cecil
had been kind and protective of me, however I only spent time with my
brother for less than a month in London before we took our passage
from England. Now he was gone, leaving me completely alone in the
world.

I glanced down at my lap at that sad notion. Had he left me alone? I
now had
two
husbands. One of the men shifted and broke me from
my thoughts and I realized my hands were bare.

"Where are my gloves?" I asked, glancing down at my open
palms. It was then I realized that the high collar of my dress was
not quite as restrictive as it should be. A few of the buttons there
had been undone. "My dress!" I brought my hand to my neck
to hold the lace trimmed collar closed.

"Ye needed to breathe lass and ye didna need gloves. The fall
weather is cool, but nae enough to warrant gloves indoors," Mr.
McPherson said.

I glanced at the arm of the couch where my gloves rested. I relaxed
just a fraction, knowing they did not intend to keep them from me.

"Ye are safe here, lass."

"I do not know you, even if you are my husband, and do not know
if your words hold truth."

Mr. McPherson slowly stood at my words, uncoiling to his full height
to stand shoulder to shoulder with Connor. "Aye, tis true ye
dinna know me, Connor or anyone else here at Bridgewater. We are an
honorable group. Connor and I will always tell ye the truth, always
do what is in yer best interest whether ye like it or nae. We are
honorable men and ye will nae question that again."

I felt my cheeks flush at the reprimand. Cecil had been honorable as
well and I should have known his fellow soldiers were of a similar
mind. I could only offer a small nod of my head in reply, for I had
surely offended him.

"Come, the noon meal is getting cold." Mr. McPherson held
out his hand to me. The scents of baked bread and seasoned meat
filled the air and I was hungry. Quickly, I did up the few buttons at
my throat before taking the proffered hand. His hold was gentle, his
skin warm as he led me into the dining room, his eyes on me.

There were three open seats; clearly the others had added an extra
place setting for me. It was quite astonishing at how easily—and
without a hint of surprise—they added me into their fold. Did a
woman show up often announcing they were married to one of the men?
If this were England, I would have been considered some kind of
harlot for having wed in secret, for hasty marriages only meant one
thing. Shameful actions. I would have been shunned instead of being
included without question.

As platters and bowls were passed, Connor offered introductions.

"Working around the table past me to the right is Andrew, Robert
and their wife Ann." They offered their greeting, but when a
baby that sat between them tossed a spoon on the floor, their
attention shifted. "That's Christopher in the high chair. He's
almost a year."

The small blond woman was married to both those men? A platter of
chicken came to Connor and he offered the serving fork to me,
breaking me from my thoughts.

I served myself as he continued. "After Robert is Cross, Simon,
Olivia and Rhys."

The woman, Olivia, who sat directly across from me, smiled in a
reassuring way. "I'm the latest addition to this unusual family,
so I can easily imagine how you are feeling. I only came to
Bridgewater from Helena, not as far as England.
I
found out,
very late one night, I was to wed
three
men." I glanced
at the men on either side of her, all who had looks of adoration and
possessiveness. It was apparent she was not adverse to the
arrangement. In fact, all four of the women around the table looked
happy and content.

"Simon is my brother, if ye havena already guessed," Mr.
McPherson added.

Connor continued the introductions. "Beside Rhys are Mason,
Laurel and Brody followed by Kane, Ian and Emma, who you've already
met."

"While this is Kane and Ian's house, we eat our meals together
here and take turns as cook and cleanup crew," Mr. McPherson
added.

Everyone's plates were full and conversation ceased as everyone ate.
I'd heard in town that Bridgewater was a well-run ranch, and it was
obvious by the size of the men that they did not sit idly. I remained
quiet for the remainder of the meal, for the one time I asked a
question about his honor I'd made Mr. McPherson mad and I was still
ashamed. I did not need the entire group angry with me within an hour
of my arrival.

When the dessert dishes were cleared, Dash excused us. "I'm glad
the cleanup chores fall to others, since I believe it is time we
became acquainted with our bride."

Connor nodded his agreement and I swallowed down my trepidation and
followed them outside. I'd never been alone with a man who was not a
relative before. Actually, as I considered it, I'd only ever been
alone with Cecil and that had been on our journey from England.

Going to my horse, Connor unwrapped the reins from the rail and led
the animal over to me. Mr. McPherson grabbed me by the waist and
lifted me up into the saddle easily enough. I was not a small woman,
but he did it as if I weighed nothing. His large hands took no
liberties, but I felt the touch deep down inside and that was
daunting...and odd. I should not feel anything at a man's touch. It
had been beaten into me, whether by switch or ruler, that frivolous
desires or carnal thoughts were a sign of a loose woman who would be
shunned by her husband. I did
not
want to be shunned, for then
where would I go?

I glanced furtively at Mr. McPherson. He rode a horse as if born to
it, the thick muscles of his thighs stretching his pants taut. His
hands were large, his fingers blunt. His face was shadowed beneath
the wide brim of his hat and yet I could see the square edge of his
jaw easily enough. Would the skin there be shadowed by whiskers as
Connor's was? I glanced at the Connor next—my other husband—and
could readily see the dark beginnings of a beard on his tanned
cheeks.

Connor readied his animal and climbed into the saddle. I had no
choice but to steer my horse and follow. They flanked me on either
side, just as they had at the dining table. I was surrounded
and...protected. It was an odd sensation to feel that way, for I'd
been alone my entire life.

There were a number of houses that dotted the prairie, set at various
distances from each other and the central buildings of the ranch—the
bar, stables and other smaller out-buildings. It was one of these
houses that we rode up to.

It was not as large as the home of Ian, Kane and Emma, but it was
impressive nonetheless. I'd envisioned sod houses, teepees described
in the dime store novels sold in London. This sprawling home was one
story with crisp white siding and a shingled roof, the front doorway
at the center with windows symmetrically placed on either side. The
finishes and details were comparable to finer homes in even less
rustic settings.

Connor dismounted and came to the side of my horse. "I didna
ask. You must have a trunk?"