The Mail Order Bride's Secret Read online

  It was good to be able to keep promises on his wedding day.

  * * *

  Melanie put on her good dress that afternoon—a simple low-cut, peach muslin that hung off her shoulders, showing a lot of smooth skin. They’d let her keep this one to get married in.

  But her silks and fancier dresses had all gone as payment.

  Her auburn hair curled about her shoulders, glistening in the mirror. She took a lock between shaky fingers. Marriage was a drastic step to take, but it was the only way she could get close enough to gain Tait’s trust. He wouldn’t suspect her if she was right under his nose.

  Or so she hoped.

  Her stomach went off in a dizzying whirl. She clutched the mirrored dresser to steady herself and took deep breaths until her nerves passed.

  Thank goodness Tait didn’t expect her to love him. That saved telling more lies. No, this was a business agreement. She’d help him with the kids while she hunted for the evidence necessary to send him to jail. That would free her sister, and Melanie would get her pardon.

  The betrayal was starting to gnaw at her though. Tait deserved a fighting chance. But if he found out any of this, he’d just run, and both Melanie and her sister would go to prison instead of him.

  She stayed in her room to avoid everyone until his soft tap came on the door. She opened it and swallowed hard at the picture he presented. A black cutaway coat accented his lean body to perfection, and added to that a white shirt and red brocade vest completed the image of a prosperous man. A gold watch chain gleamed smartly along with his polished boots. A low hum of anticipation of their first night together vibrated under her skin.

  Melanie was no stranger to lovemaking, and the prospect of the attractive and dangerous Tait Trinity in her bed excited her.

  He removed his black Stetson to reveal his sun-streaked caramel hair and whistled. “I’m a lucky man to have such a beautiful bride, Miss Melanie Dunbar.”

  “You look quite handsome yourself.”

  Tait took her wrap and slipped it around her. “The bluff is close enough to walk, but I thought we’d go in a borrowed surrey so the children can sit in the back. I wouldn’t want you to get that dress dirty or turn an ankle. Unless you have other ideas.”

  “No, that’s fine.” She took his elbow and waited for him to shut the door. The scent of his shaving soap swirled around her as she hurtled toward what could be the biggest mistake of her life. She stood rooted in place even after Tait pulled the door closed. She yearned to bolt back inside.

  “Are you all right?” Tait patted the hand curled around his arm.

  She jolted out of her reverie and gave him a bright smile. “Perfectly.”

  Outside the hotel, the children waited next to a hired surrey. The boys looked fairly grown-up in suits, and Becky wore a pretty pink dress that Melanie learned Tait had bought from the mercantile.

  “Mellie!” Becky cried, holding out her arms.

  “No, honey, remember what we talked about,” Tait said gently. “She rides in front with me. You sit back there with your brothers.”

  The girl pouted but hushed. Though children still made Melanie uncomfortable, Becky was such a sweet child and reminded her a little of her sister, Ava. With that thought, Melanie’s resolve to rescue her sister settled in once again. Hell and be damned if she wouldn’t!

  A smile teased Tait’s nicely shaped mouth. He shot her a sideways glance. “I like Becky’s name for you. Mellie fits you much better.”

  “I’ve never been fond of nicknames.” More truthfully, Melanie hated all the ones folks had bestowed on her—Mellie Nellie, Blue Eyes, Quick-Fingered Mel, cheat, and others far worse.

  The children kept up a stream of conversation as they followed a faint trail outside the town’s entrance that led up the bluff. The view was splendid, the gold-and-light-amethyst sky extending on forever. The sun sat low on the horizon, and Melanie hoped the sunset would be all the preview promised.

  The surrey stopped, and Tait came around to her side. She took his hand and stepped down. It was odd how detached she felt. She seemed to be floating in a dream instead of being a part of her real life. Even so, she didn’t harbor any doubts about the solidity of the moment.

  Guests had already assembled, and it appeared most of the town had turned out for the occasion. Tait carried Becky in his arms as he greeted several of his friends in the crowd. Joe and Jesse ran off together, only to return a few minutes later.

  Jesse thrust a single wild rose into her hand, a pretty ribbon tied around the stem. “For you, Miss Melanie. We took all the thorns off. But we might’ve forgotten one.”

  Joe handed her a second rose. “You’re real pretty, Miss Melanie. I’m glad you came.”

  “Thank you, boys.” Deeply touched, she kissed them each on the cheek.

  At the moment the sky slipped down to meet the earth, she took her place next to Tait and placed her hand in his. Ever-changing colors swirled above them—tangerine, copper, amethyst, and ruby. The kaleidoscope bled into one breathtaking spectacle after another.

  Melanie shifted her gaze to Tait’s profile. His face seemed set in stone, giving no indication of his thoughts. She repeated the preacher’s words, vowed to stand by his side and be the wife he needed through good times and bad.

  The sunset turned fiery red in an instant, and the weight of what she intended to do struck her. The ground whirled dizzily. Her chin quivered, and she bit down on her lip.

  Just then came the flash of a camera from the side where the newspaper man had set up. Good grief! He’d undoubtedly caught her looking her worst. Still, a picture would be useful proof in case Judge McIlroy didn’t believe that she’d gone through with her end of the bargain.

  Tait bolstered her with an arm around her waist, his mouth at her ear. “I’ve got you. Take a deep breath and it’ll be all right.”

  But would it ever be again? Dear God, she was now pledged for life to the man she’d committed to destroy.

  Six

  The evening shadows deepened around the bridal party, and crickets chirped nearby. Melanie’s lowered gaze gave Tait no clue as to what thoughts were spinning through her head. As for him, he just wanted to get the deed over with.

  How bad could her life have been to marry a wanted man like him, practically sight unseen?

  Before he knew it, Brother Paul asked for the ring. Tait pulled a silver one from his watch pocket and glanced at Melanie. She was as white as a cotton ball and appeared ready to collapse. Probably nerves again, but he should get her back to the hotel as soon as this was over.

  It hit him that he was tying himself to another woman—something he vowed to never let happen again. Not after Lucy. Images of her grave still haunted him, the mound of dirt thrown on top of her.

  He slipped the simple silver band on Melanie’s finger. Then it was time to kiss her. He’d do his duty, and that would have to be enough. But the moment their lips met, he lost all sense of time and place. The sweet scent of the roses she clutched swirled around him as he held her, a hand bracing her back. Something unexpected and gratifying at the feel of a woman in his arms, her pliant softness, crept past the barricade he’d erected. She slid an arm around his neck, fingers winding through his hair.

  Melanie gripped his vest and opened her mouth slightly as though begging for whatever bit of passion he could offer. He slipped his tongue inside, tasting her, savoring the sweetness.

  Someone cleared their throat behind him. Tait ended the kiss and let her go, breathing hard. She seemed shaken as well, clutching his arm for support.

  He met her shadowed gaze. “Lady, you sure know how to claim a man.”

  “Isn’t that the only way?” she teased, brightening for a moment and showing her dimples.

  Tait stood there lost in the moment, staring at his wife’s dazzling smile, her bare shoulders shimmering in the low light
of the sunset. What the hell had just hit him? He reasoned that it had to be the beautiful sunset and the fact it had been so long since he’d been with a woman.

  * * *

  What was keeping Tait Trinity?

  Melanie huddled in his bed at the hotel, alone, waiting for whatever came next. The Bowdres had kept the children for the night so she didn’t even have their company to lift the loneliness and doubt from her heart and mind. Light from the bedside oil lamp cast a muted glow across the room, not quite reaching the shadows.

  Nothing ever seemed to reach the dark corners.

  Tait had disappeared after the reception—and to where she didn’t know.

  She swallowed hard to stop the tears, determined not to pity the forgotten bride. He’d told her to go to bed and that he’d be there soon.

  That had been four hours ago. Where was her new husband? They hadn’t discussed their wedding night, but she’d assumed they’d sleep together. Wasn’t that the usual custom? But maybe she should be grateful for the respite and pretend to be asleep when he finally came.

  But no, dammit. What she’d seen of his body had stirred that certain need to be touched, held, to be assured that she mattered. True, they didn’t love each other, but she was a woman with womanly needs. She wanted to feel his hard body next to hers, to run her hands over his broad chest, shoulders, and muscular thighs—for him to melt some of this icy fear that gripped her.

  The lifestyle of a gambler—among other things—had put her in contact with a lot of men, and she’d taken her pleasure with some. Horrified virgin she wasn’t. She had expected Tait to show her the courtesy of sharing their wedding night.

  Didn’t he want her even the slightest bit?

  Confusion swept through her. Desire had flared in his eyes when he’d kissed her. Melanie hadn’t imagined that.

  A noise sounded outside the room. Finally. She squinched her eyes shut, feigning sleep. But after several minutes of nothing, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling instead.

  Waiting. Wondering. Fearing he’d somehow discovered her true reason for coming.

  Maybe that was it. He knew.

  She thought of the reception, the beautiful wedding cake she’d shared with Tait after admitting that nerves had gotten the best of her. They’d toasted with several glasses of wine, and his friend Jack had offered a heartfelt speech. Everything had seemed fine.

  But evidently it wasn’t.

  Maybe he’d gone off with his friends to drink. Entirely possible.

  Well, let him. She threw back the covers. She’d have a drink of her own. She went to her bag and pulled out her flask, unscrewed the lid, and tipped the container up. But one good mouthful emptied it. Her search of the suite failed to turn up a bottle. Fine and dandy. She’d have to figure out how to buy more tomorrow without Tait knowing. She needed a nip now and then to settle her jumpiness.

  Maybe he’d ridden out to dig up the train loot. If he planned to build a house, he’d need funds. But no, he’d said he’d pay for that with honest money, so he wouldn’t need to dig up the loot. If it was even buried. Who knew where outlaws hid their money? She twisted the silver band on her finger. Darn it, she should’ve followed him.

  Another thought gripped her, one far worse than the other two. Maybe he had another woman here in town and had gone to her bed instead. Her heart stopped. She blew back a lock of hair dangling onto her forehead. Had she misread him? Tait Trinity could be nothing but a low-down two-timer of the highest order.

  But she didn’t love him, so what did it matter? She frowned, confused.

  Worn out and disgusted, she pulled a well-used deck of cards from deep in her bag and played a while, taking comfort in the familiar routine that never failed her. Anger built into fury the more the clock ticked. Just wait until she saw him. Piss on Judge McIlroy up in Canadian, and piss on his powerful friends. She’d find another way to help her sister. Something that didn’t make her feel so dirty and cheap.

  No man made a fool of her. Once the sun rose, she’d catch the first stage out of Hope’s Crossing.

  * * *

  Tait dismounted at the corral still in his wedding attire as the sun poked its head up on a new day. The town was just beginning to move about. Melanie would hopefully still be asleep. He unsaddled his roan and gave the mount some oats before heading to the hotel.

  He’d spent the night thinking. He’d thought this was going to be an easy way to solve a problem. But nothing about this marriage was simple. For one thing, his gut told him Melanie wasn’t being truthful. Her words and actions didn’t match, and she seemed terrified of marriage. Or maybe it was commitment that scared her. At any rate, she wasn’t a dressmaker. That much he knew. Though pretty, her wedding dress also was in need of mending. Plus he’d smelled whiskey on her breath.

  Hell if he knew what she was hiding.

  Who was the real Melanie Dunbar, and when would she show her true self? He didn’t mind what anyone said or pass judgment as long as they were honest.

  Another big concern was that kiss, one that had shaken him to his toes. This attraction he felt was wrong. His heart was cold—dead. He’d only loved one woman, and she was gone.

  Staring up at the stars hadn’t provided any answers.

  He made his way to the hotel and up the stairs. Their suite was quiet. He turned the knob and opened the door. A well-timed shoe came near to plunking him in the head. Tait leaped back into the hallway, although not quickly enough to avoid the second shoe that came barreling after the first, striking his chest. Another followed, and then a heavy ashtray that crashed against the far wall.

  “It’s me, Melanie.”

  “I know.” The words seemed to come through gritted teeth. Just then one of his old boots hurled past him.

  He whipped out the white handkerchief he’d tucked in his pocket for his wedding and waved it around the door. “Cease fire. Let me explain.”

  When nothing else flew at him, he moved cautiously around the cover of the door. Melanie stood in the center of the room holding his other boot, wearing nothing but a thin white nightgown that revealed far too much. Her chest heaved, fire shooting from her eyes, her reddish-brown hair wild about her head. Tait had never seen a prettier sight.

  Damn it, he didn’t want to notice that, didn’t want to be attracted to her.

  “Give me one good reason not to let this boot fly.” Her voice shook with anger.

  “Sit down and we’ll try to have a normal conversation.” The corners of Tait’s mouth twitched though he tried to keep a somber expression. He slowly moved toward her, ready to duck at any moment, and gently relieved her of the boot.

  Melanie jerked back. “Don’t think you can smile and I’ll fall helpless in a puddle at your feet. I’m not that kind.”

  Of course, she wouldn’t sit now for love or money. Dammit! Fine.

  “I’m sorry.” He removed his hat and laid it on a table. “I owe you a big apology.”

  Her glare burned with reproach. “You said you’d be right back. Well, guess what? You lied.”

  “Time got away from me.”

  “Where were you? Do you have another woman whose bed is softer than mine?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Where had she gotten that notion?

  “What am I to think, Tait? On our wedding day, you stayed out all the blessed night.” She stared daggers. “Am I not woman enough for you? What about the vows you spoke? I don’t feel one bit cherished. Or protected. Or wifely.”

  “I saddled up and took a ride. Spent the night up on a mesa, thinking.” He ran a hand across his eyes. “I was trying to figure out some things.”

  “What things?” Her voice had lost some of the anger but was still tight and guarded.

  “Like where we go from here. How to raise these kids together. How to keep you safe when bullets start flying. Before
I knew it, the night was gone.” His gaze went to a bulging bag sitting next to the door, and he swallowed hard. “Most importantly, I was thinking about how to make you happy. I’ve already failed at that, I see.”

  Theirs had to be the shortest marriage on record.

  “I’m leaving.” She refused to meet his eyes.

  He went to the window and looked down at the thriving town that had once been an outlaw’s hideout aptly named Devil’s Crossing. A few early risers moved about in the street. “You could’ve given me half a chance,” he said quietly.

  “And you could’ve kept your word,” she shot back. “You lied to me.”

  “Do you really want to leave?” He turned to study her. “If so, I won’t stop you.”

  “I’ll ask you again, and this time I’d like an answer. Can you assure me beyond a doubt you don’t have another woman here in town? Someone you’re keeping on the side?” Light from the window filtered through Melanie’s thin nightgown, revealing a lush figure made for loving, her full breasts, the dark nipples at their peaks.

  Tait’s mouth went dry, and his body tightened.

  When he could get his tongue unglued, he tried to explain. “I swear on a stack of Bibles that I have no other woman but you. Look. I know I messed up and shouldn’t have gone out. But if you’ll let me—us—start again, I think we can still make this marriage work. I’m willing to try. Are you?”

  Melanie blew out a long breath. “Of course I want it to succeed. You’ll have to meet me in the middle though. And I expect you to sleep with me.”

  “That won’t be a problem. What else?”

  Her bare feet moved silently across the floor and she stopped in front of him. “Never lie to me again.”

  Tait lifted a curl from her shoulder, studying the depths of her eyes. His soft voice held a warning. “That works both ways, lady. I get the feeling you’re keeping secrets and have been since you got here. Something isn’t adding up.”

  A flash of panic crossed her face, then she gave him a sensual smile. “All ladies have secrets,” she drawled. “Besides, you can’t know everything about me in two days.”