Mail-Order Brides of the West: Evie (McCutcheon) Read online

  “Chance,” a voice called out.

  He stopped. Turned. Luke McCutcheon was riding up the street with the afternoon sun at his back.

  Luke dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail. “Thought that was you. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of you in a while. How’re those sandy-haired heifers? Any calves yet?”

  “Luke. Good to see you.” As much as he respected Luke, he didn’t want to share his predicament with him just yet. It wasn’t the end of the world that construction was taking a bit longer to complete, although Evie might think different. And, anyway, he knew the McCutcheon ranch as well as the next ranch hand. They didn’t keep more than a pound of nails around at any one time either. “Nope, none yet. Got several bagging up, though.”

  “Good. How’s things with the house? It coming along?”

  “Yep, it’s coming.” He’d change the subject. “How’s Faith? And my sweetie-pie, little Dawn? And the new baby?”

  Luke’s grin about split his face. “A houseful. Kind of why I volunteered to ride into town. I needed a moment of peace. Gettin’ up three times a night to feed Holly is taking a toll on Faith. She’s tuckered all the time. Dawn thinks Holly is the cat’s meow. Colton is pretty smitten, too, except he complains he’s not going to have any eardrums left by the time he’s ten.” Luke shook his head with pride. “That boy is special. It’s amazing how he keeps a protective watch on his sisters at all times.”

  Chance liked thinking he might be in Luke’s shoes someday soon. He longed for roots, a wife, children of his own. What would it feel like to hold his own baby in his arms? He was ready. Girl or boy, it didn’t matter. If his family turned out anything like Luke’s, he’d be one darn lucky man.

  “Is that the plan you have there?” Luke asked. “Let me have a look.”

  Chance unrolled the sketch and held the paper open against the rail.

  Luke leaned forward and studied it for several long seconds. He whistled. “I like it, Chance. Looks like you’ll have room to grow.”

  Chance felt his face go hot.

  “It’s larger than I expected.”

  “I expect you’re right.” Chance hadn’t yet shared his involvement with the mail-order brides agency and his plan to marry Evie Davenport. He didn’t intend to, either. That was his and Evie’s business, no one else’s. There would be plenty of jokes and ribbing to go around when she arrived, he was sure.

  Actually, he’d been skeptical when he’d first read the ad, and even after the idea took hold and he’d sent his first post. But then a letter arrived for him, written by a girl who didn’t even know him. He’d read it most every night since, and the other two letters, too. If she was willing to take a gamble on him, a man she’d never met before, he’d sure take one on her. He’d care for her, protect her, and shield her from the razzing that was certain to come.

  Chance rolled the drawing up and crossed his arms. “What’s brought you into town?” He looked around. “Matt and Mark with you?”

  “No, but Francis is. We came to pick up some doohickey for Faith at the store. You know how sensitive women are. It pays to stay on their sweet side.” He lifted a brow and smiled.

  “Frankly, no, I don’t know.” Not yet. But I will.

  Luke had the decency to look sheepish. “Oh, yeah, right.”

  Chance let his friend off the hook with a smile. Years ago Chance had been sweet on Faith, Luke’s wife and mother to his new baby daughter and two step-children. Chance had fallen hard from the moment he’d seen her step from the back of her rickety old wagon surrounded by all the cowhands. He’d hoped to woo her heart—had even risked breaking his neck trying to impress her on a loco-headed bronco. The sting of that day still had the ability to prick his pride. He could almost smile about the scene now, Faith fawning over him on the ground while Luke looked on, jealousy nearly turning his skin green.

  Chance had always been reticent around women, and after Faith chose Luke over him, that reticence had only grown stronger. His shyness was a handicap. He’d all but given up hope of finding a wife until he’d seen the advertisement from the mail-order brides agency in the Y Knot Sunday Herald. Even now, just the thought of all the talking he’d have to do to court a woman made his palms sweat and his heart thud against his ribs. He just wasn’t much of a talker. And without words, it was hard to attract a woman—they liked to chatter about as much as they liked to shop. As soon as Evie arrived, he’d have plenty of talking to do. She’d expect conversation, and he didn’t want her to think she was marrying a dolt. A cold, clammy anxiety wrapped around him like a damp blanket.

  Luke’s brows drew down in concern. “Hey, man, you feeling all right? Looks like you just saw a ghost.”

  Chance studied Luke’s face. Maybe he should confide in his longtime friend about Evie. Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe he should call this whole thing off before he got in deeper, unable to pull his way out of the quicksand. He shook the notion out of his head and straightened his spine.

  Luke stepped closer, an alarmed look in his eyes. “Chance? Say something.”

  “Hey, Chance,” Francis said in greeting, joining the two. The young man’s messy brown hair was in need of a trim. He stuck out his hand and the two shook.

  Chance pulled himself back together. “Francis, how’s life treating you out at the Heart of the Mountains?” It was good to see Francis. He’d shared the bunkhouse with him for years. He had always liked the boy and thought of him as a younger brother.

  “Good, good.”

  “Yeah, what else can you say with your boss standing right here?” Chance laughed and winked at Luke. “Anytime you want a change, you have a job with me.”

  Francis’s cheeks reddened as he looked back and forth between the men. He’d grown tall in the last year and stood almost eye to eye with them.

  “Don’t you go stealing my help, you sneaky Texan. Can’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

  “By the way, Francis,” Chance said, cocking a brow. “Seen Charity lately?”

  Francis sighed. “You know full well Charity only has eyes for Brandon Crawford. I wish you all would just lay off!”

  Chance held up his hands as if fending off an attack. “All right, all right, I was just teasing.”

  Francis shook his head. “And don’t I know it. Everyone still thinks of me as a snot-nosed kid.”

  “You’re right,” Chance replied. “I keep forgetting you’re not a boy anymore. You won’t hear any teasing out of me in the future.” I best remember what goes around, comes around.

  “Well, you might from me,” Luke said with a chuckle. “Did Mr. Lichtenstein have that thingamabob Faith ordered?” he asked, looking at Francis.

  Francis unwrapped the brown paper he carried. “You mean this?” He carefully held up a soft pink chemise decorated with tiny pink-and-blue flowers and a white silken ribbon.

  “Exactly.” Luke quickly took it from the youth’s hands and wrapped it back up. His face flushed. “Don’t you dare tell her you picked it up.” His voice brooked no argument.

  Chance gave a long, low whistle. “Can I see that again?”

  “No.” Luke looked down to the sheriff’s office. “Have you seen Brandon around? Thought I’d stop by and chew the fat as long as I’m in town.”

  Chance doffed his hat to Mrs. Harper as she walked by. Luke and Francis followed suit. “No, he told me this morning he’s taking some time off. Rode out, but didn’t say where he was going.”

  “That’s strange. I wonder why he didn’t say anything to me about it. Could be it has something to do with Charity going off to that Miss Manners school down in Denver. I don’t think he was too happy about it.”

  Chance shrugged. “Who knows,” he said nonchalantly. “Those two don’t know if they’re coming or going half the time. I can’t keep track.”

  Luke gathered his reins and stepped into the street. “Lucky said for me to tell you, if I saw you, not to be such a stranger. Just because you have your own sp
read doesn’t mean you can’t come out to visit us now and then.”

  “Tell him I will.”

  Luke mounted up and spun his horse around, then quickly turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He rode forward with a grin that said he’d just thought of something incredibly funny. Francis, still standing with Chance, looked up at Luke curiously. “Remember that advertisement in the paper awhile back, the one for the mail-order brides?” Luke asked, leaning forward with his palms on the saddle horn. “Seems someone from Y Knot actually answered it. Faith heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend who heard it from Mr. Simpson, the postmaster. You know how forgetful he is. Well, he can’t remember who sent it but said he definitely saw a post go out, maybe even a couple. I wonder who the heck it is?”

  Chance removed his hat and fiddled with the brim. “That’s quite the news,” he said casually, running the side of his hand down the crease, then pulling the Stetson on firmly. “A mail-order bride, you say?”

  Smile crinkles formed at the corners of Luke’s eyes, and he laughed. “Yep, that’s exactly what I said. Looks like a wedding is in the works.”

  Chapter Three

  EVIE ENTERED the dormitory after a long day of work. She carried a large pitcher of water filled to the brim, being careful not to spill any on the hardwood floor. The large room, converted from the ballroom, faced west, letting in golden streams of evening light. Three beds graced opposite sidewalls. Each had its own private washstand with amenities. A coffee-colored trunk with a silver lock sat at the foot of each, large enough to hold some personal belongings. The carved walnut ceiling was the room’s crowning glory.

  Evie sighed. It was a beautiful room, reserved for the girls who could pay a bit more. She would miss the grandeur of it when she left, but not enough to want to stay. This evening the brides-to-be were in the parlor, enjoying tea as they practiced writing poetry. Laughter floated up the stairs as Evie went about filling the girls’ individual water jars. Finished, she turned down the coverlets.

  “Evie.”

  Evie turned. Trudy stood in the center of the tall, double-door entry, warming her with a thoughtful gaze. The girl hurried forward. “I can’t believe you’re still working.”

  “Actually, I’m finished for the day.” She stretched her weary back muscles.

  “Well, thank goodness! I think Prudence should have to fill the water pitchers.” They both giggled.

  “I’ve wanted to talk, but we never seem to have the chance.” Trudy sat on the side of her bed and patted the spot next to her. “Sit for a moment. I have a niggling headache tonight and Mrs. Seymour said I could retire early. I’ll not be missed.”

  Evie did as Trudy requested and sank into the mattress. It was softer than the beds in the attic dormitory on the floor above, where three of the other girls lived. Evie herself had a small private room on the first floor next to Dona’s, the cook. Trudy took Evie’s hands into her own. “Can I tell you something?”

  Evie nodded.

  “I’m a tad nervous about being a bride. I can’t admit that to anyone else but you. You’re so kind to everyone, and thoughtful. You always have something nice to say. I appreciate that, more than you could know.” She gave Evie’s hands a little squeeze. “I feel close to you.”

  Evie warmed under the compliment.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, start my life, see the world. It’s been my dream to go west and marry a wonderful, caring man, but…”

  Trudy looked so vulnerable sitting there, her expressive blue eyes searching her own. “I’m not supposed to say anything yet, but”—she leaned forward and lowered her voice—“Mrs. Seymour has already found a match for me. I’ve known ever since I arrived but wasn’t able to say anything until she checked out my domestic abilities. I guess I passed the test.”

  Evie gasped. “With flying colors, I’m sure. Who is he?”

  “A farmer in Sweetwater Springs, Montana. Mrs. Seymour is enthusiastic—she says she’s never had such a flawless match. From what Seth Flanigan said he wanted in his initial letter, I’ll make him a picture-perfect wife. Apparently, that’s never happened at the agency before. There’s usually a little give and take. We’re waiting for, his reply,” she finished solemnly.

  An emotion-filled moment passed between them. “That’s wonderful news, Trudy. I’m so happy for you.”

  Trudy smiled.

  Evie tipped her head. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Yes, I know. I can’t wait to travel west, especially to Montana. I’ve dreamed about the mountains and nature for as long as I can remember. It’s as if my spirit has always known I’d end up there. I like the idea of the wilderness too. Going to places no one else has ever seen.” She sighed. “Actually, things are turning out better than I’d ever imagined. But…there is one thing that is making me sad.”

  Evie couldn’t imagine anything that would trouble a no-nonsense go-getter like Trudy. What courage and confidence! “What is it?”

  “After I leave I’ll be worrying about you. Working your life away. Never finding a husband of your own. Evie, is this what you want?”

  A lump rose in Evie’s throat. She shook her head.

  “Do you have family? Somewhere else you can go?”

  “No,” Evie whispered. “My mother worked here for Mrs. Seymour and the Colonel for as long as I can remember. They let her bring me here too, even though…” It was as if Trudy knew what she was going to say. The empathy in her eyes pulled at Evie’s heart. “Even though I didn’t have a father. And my mother wasn’t a widow.”

  “Is that why you’ve not tried for a husband through the agency? You’re beautiful and smart. I wondered why.”

  Evie nodded. “I’m not…you know…one of those girls of good moral standing.” It seemed to take a moment before Trudy caught her meaning.

  “That’s preposterous! Of course you are. You should have a chance, too. Your morals are perfectly respectable. Your parentage shouldn’t matter. I’m going to speak with the matron tomorrow, try to change her mind. You have so much to offer a man. Whoever he is, he’d be lucky to have a wife like you.” Trudy bolted to her feet. “On second thought, I’ll never be able to sleep a wink if I don’t talk to her right now.”

  Panicked, Evie shot up off the bed and snatched the back of Trudy’s gray chiffon sash, halting her in her tracks. “Please, Trudy, you mustn’t do that.”

  When Trudy turned, the fire in her eyes was gone, replaced with puzzlement. “Why? Let me help you while I still can.”

  Excitement for the secret she was about to share bubbled up, heating Evie’s skin. She couldn’t stop a smile from playing with her lips.

  “What?” Trudy’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve taken matters into my own hands.”

  It was Trudy’s turn to gasp. “What?” They sank back down onto the side of the bed, face-to-face.

  “You have to promise not to tell a soul.”

  “Of course.”

  “One day, when I went to our mail drop to collect the mail, the strangest feeling came over me. Like something significant was about to happen. Gathering the letters, I glanced down. There were three. All looked to be from prospective grooms. I studied each for several seconds, but one kept pulling my gaze like a magnet. Before I knew what I was about, I dropped that specific post into my apron pocket. Later that evening, after my work was done and everyone was asleep, I opened it. I must have read it fifty times. He was so shy, so sweet. I knew I could be the perfect wife to him. So, I answered it. I’m going to be a mail-order bride myself.”

  “Oh…my…stars!” Trudy clamped her hand over her mouth and it was a moment before she went on. “What’s his name? What’s he like? Tell me everything you know.” Trudy said quickly without taking a breath. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Chance Holcomb.” Just saying his name brought a rush of heat to Evie’s face. She giggled. “He has a ranch with a new house, in Montana, too. Just like
you. He’s tall and has brown, sandy-colored hair, and is incredibly handsome.”

  “Did he say that?”

  Evie laughed. “No. But it’s true—I just know it.”

  “How old is he.”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “You said Montana. What’s the town called?”

  “Y Knot.”

  “Why not what?”

  “No. The town is Y Knot. With the letter Y.”

  They both burst out laughing, flopping backward onto the bed. Trudy clamped her hand over Evie’s mouth. “Shhh, Mrs. Seymour will hear us.”

  Trudy grew serious. “When are you going to tell her?”

  “I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say. I can’t imagine how upset she’ll be, me going behind her back. Everything’s been going around and around in my head for days. All that really matters is that Chance is expecting me. Has asked me to be his wife. If I speak with her, she may stop me from going.”

  “When?”

  “Three days. On my day off. I’m leaving behind a portion of my earnings, enough to pay for the matchmaking fee and room and board if Mrs. Seymour had actually matched Chance up with me, or someone else. Still,” she paused and looked down, “I feel unscrupulous not being truthful with her. It’s not the way I’d like to say good-bye.” She fiddled with her apron, which was lightly soiled from the day’s work. “I hope the money will also compensate for me not giving notice. Not being truthful. I’ve spoken with a friend of mine who recently lost her job when her employer passed on. She’s promised to apply.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself, Evie.”

  “I don’t like sneaking off without explaining, but I don’t know what else to do. I can’t imagine what her reaction will be.”