Our Desperate Bride
|

Our Desperate Bride

Desperately searching for a place to hide, Daisy Miller ran through the streets of Charleston. For the last week, her life had been a living hell. She darted into an alley then ducked behind trash cans. The smell of rotting food almost made her gag.
Going from ball gowns, to living on the streets, what else could happen to her?
“Oh, Daisy, I’m going to find you,” the man said with a laugh. “Soon, a fine upstanding young woman like yourself, once a debutante, will be working in the whorehouse. Business will be great as all the men in town come to spread your legs. Sample what Thomas got a taste of.”
A tremble of fear had her body shaking as she tried not to breathe, hoping he would tire of hunting for her and go on. Tears filled her eyes and part of her wanted to give up.
Since the night of the scandal, her life had gone from parties to searching for help with nowhere to go. Not believing her claim she was almost raped, her father and mother had sided with Thomas Jones and his lie that he took her virginity. They had forbidden her from staying at their home, so she would not influence her sisters. Also, hoping to force Thomas to marry her.
But he didn’t care.
What kind of father would kick his daughter out of the house with nowhere to go? What kind of father would take the side of the man instead of his daughters? A father who so desperately wanted the man’s business in his work.
None of this was her fault, and yet, she suffered the consequences of that evil man’s actions. Somehow she would destroy him, but right now, she was just doing her best to survive on the streets, scrounging for food and shelter. Doing her best to hide from men like this who wanted to trap her and make her into a whore.
She would die first.

Our Fugitive Bride
|

Our Fugitive Bride

Ida Newton, matchmaker extraordinaire, stared at the letter in her hand. Winter was ending and it was always a struggle to keep her business going during this slow time. Years ago, after her husband died, she’d become a mail-order bride matchmaker. 
And she loved her job, except when the cash grew low. This year, she was barely surviving. 
The city of Charleston had slowly recovered from the war, but in the year of our Lord, 1875, people were still struggling. And men from the west were still looking for brides to keep them warm at night. 
“Sweet pickles and fresh juniper,” she exclaimed, staring at the words on the page, unable to believe her good fortune. 
“What?” her assistant asked. 
“They want me to find eight women to go to Treasure Falls, Montana, as mail-order brides.”
A check slipped out of the folded letter and she gasped. The sum on that piece of paper was almost two years’ worth of living expenses. 
Sweet hallelujah! Today was her lucky day. 
“Oh my,” she said, sinking down into a chair. “They’re paying me upfront and it’s almost double what I would normally receive.”
It seemed too good to be true. How had the man heard about her ability to put couples together? Her reputation as a mail-order bride locator was well known in the south, but the west?
Her assistant picked up the check and gasped. “Ida, this is what you are needing. Business has been so slow. This will keep things going. You won’t have to sell your house. We can stay in business.”
Quickly she scanned the letter and frowned. What woman in her right mind would accept such an offer? What woman on God’s green earth would think this was acceptable? 
And yet, oh, how she needed this money, but there was no way…
With a sigh, she shook her head. “I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“There are certain conditions.”
Suzanne leaned forward. “What conditions? Whatever they are, we will overcome them.”
How could she send women out west to be basically a concubine for not one man, but two? She still believed in love and marriage and helping couples find one another, but not two men. 
“They share their women. There are two men for every woman.”


Their Scandalous Bride
|

Their Scandalous Bride

The O’Reilly ranch butted up against their property, but the only person they had spoken to was the foreman. The original owners had died in a blizzard a few years back and now their daughter owned the land.
And from what he heard, she was a spitfire no one wanted to deal with. The rumors of her escapades were well known.
In school, she set the teacher’s desk on fire. At church, the communion was exchanged for cake and the dressmaker refused to work with her after she cut the bodice out of the gowns.
The woman was a mischief maker with no one to control her. Though Alastair had never met her, she was not on his list of possible candidates for a wife. That kind of drama had no room in his life. None.
“Charley said to come to the barn,” Keegan said as they rode through the gates of O’Reilly’s Folly.
A large house sat not far from the barn. The ranch was a large piece of property and Alastair wondered about the woman who lived here. How could a woman handle this ranch?
They rode up to the barn and he swung a leg over his red mare. The horse had been his favorite for many years, but he knew in order to keep their stable secure, they needed to bring in new blood.
An older man with a limp came out of the barn, his gray hair covered by a large hat. “Hello.”
“Alastair Fraser,” he said, stepping up and gripping the man’s hand.
“Keegan Black,” his partner said doing the same. “We’re here about the fillies you have for sale.”
The man smiled. “Come on back here. Two of the sweetest little fillies. Their mother is out in the field if you want to take a look at her. And their papa is being ridden by Miss Catriona, though I expect her back soon.”
It would be nice to see what their parents looked like, if they were in good shape.
They walked through the barn, the smell of leather and horses pervaded the area, though the doors were open on both ends of the structure.
They walked up to a pen where the two animals stood gazing about. The one neighed loudly.
“They’re upset that I haven’t moved them to the horse pen this morning. They like to run.”
The two animals stood side by side. They were pretty little foals and he knew they would take a lot of work to train. Work they would do this winter.
“Let me take them out to the horse pasture and you can see them run,” Charley said.
As he led them out, the man glanced at them. “Where you men from?”
“Bridgewater,” Keegan said.
The man smiled and nodded his head. “Hear that’s a real good place to live.”
“We like it,” Alastair said. “Your land butts up against ours.”
For a second, the man paused walking and turned to look at them. “Really? I didn’t know who owned that parcel. You know Phillip Johnson owns the land on the other side of us.” The man sighed and continued walking toward an enclosed pasture. He pulled the rope from around the animals’ necks and slapped them on the butts. They took off running.
As they watched the animals kick up their heels and gallop about the ring, Alastair knew they would be perfect for their stable. They would bring young blood into the group and would make excellent horses once they were broken.
For the next five minutes, they discussed money and when they reached an agreeable amount, he glanced at Keegan who gave him a nod.
“I’d like to see their mother and father,” he said. “If they’re healthy, then we have a deal.”
The man smiled. “Well, the father is racing toward us right now.”
Alastair glanced up to see a woman riding across the fields on a beautiful black stallion, her auburn hair flying out behind her. Riding astride, her skirts were raised to her knees, exposing long shapely limbs. His dick sprang to attention.
The scandalous Miss O’Reilly.
Like a punch to the gut, it was all he could do not to take a sharp intake of breath. Racing, the horse jumped the fence and came to a stop right in front of them.
The woman dropped to the ground and settled her skirts around her.
“Hello,” she said breathless, and his imagination had her spread beneath them, her voice breathy as she came.

Their Tempting Bride
|

Their Tempting Bride

Daniel Hamilton walked out of the big city’s telegraph office, staring at the words on the page with a frown on his face.
Time was running out.
“What’s wrong?” Martin Perkins, his best friend from when they served in the army in the country of Mohamir, called out to him on Main Street in the bustling area of Butte, Montana.
“My father,” he said, “he’s coming to visit next week.”
“Damn,” Martin said. “Do you think it’s about the woman he wants you to marry?”
Of course, it was. His father wanted him to marry a rich debutante and had one picked out for him. A woman he’d detested since grade school.
“I’m certain he’s coming to convince me to return with him to Philadelphia and marry Elizabeth Wister.”
His family back in Philadelphia were well known socialites. His father owned one of the largest banks in the city and wanted his eldest son to follow in his footsteps, though he had six brothers and two sisters who were more than capable of carrying on the family name.
“You know what would settle this?”
“No, what?” Daniel said, stamping down the wooden sidewalk. He slowed his steps to match Martin’s limping ones.
“If you were to marry, he couldn’t force you into marrying Miss Wister.”
The thought of marriage wasn’t a bad idea. But he didn’t want a normal wedded life like everyone else. No, he wanted the Bridgewater way.
Going to Mohamir for military service and then seeing the happiness of the couples at Bridgewater, he knew exactly what he wanted. And it wasn’t a marriage like his parents.
One woman between him and Martin. The two of them making certain she received everything they had to offer, sharing her between them, creating a happy family just like their friends had.
No, it wasn’t the normal way, but it was the Mohamir way being lived right there in Bridgewater, Montana. Martin and he had been talking about it for years but had yet to find the right woman. Martin wasn’t certain a woman would want him with his injury.
“Are you ready to commit to a woman?”
It wasn’t that his friend was ugly. In fact, of the two of them, he’d say that Martin was the more handsome with his dark hair, bushy dark brows, and big brown eyes. Before his injury, the whores at a bar would flock to him, and his goofy sense of humor would have them soon laughing.
Many women did not like Daniel’s auburn hair and the freckles across his nose until they learned who his family was and then they became his best friend. It was one reason he didn’t want to return to Philadelphia.
In Butte, and even in Bridgewater, his business was growing, and not because of his father’s wealth, but rather his own attention to detail and his fairness with the local miners—the small guys, not the big outfits like the Bartlett mine.
And no one took advantage of him because of his name. No one here knew his father owned one of the largest banks in Philadelphia.
A wagon full of lumber rolled down the street and Martin waited until it passed.
“Yes, I’m ready as long as we can find someone who is not disgusted by the sight of my leg. Or me wearing a stump.”
“I understand,” Daniel said, knowing his friend worried too much. A bullet lodged in his best friend’s calf muscle, and gangrene set in. In order to save his life, they amputated his leg from the knee down. Three years had passed, and still, Martin was not the same. Maybe he never would be. But the man refused to let it get him down, and though he wasn’t the jokester he once was, he was alive.
Maybe a woman who could accept his damage and be their wife would bring back his old friend.
“Finding a wife would put an end to my father’s insistence that I return to Philadelphia. And just think, sweet pussy every night.”
A woman walking the other way turned and glared at him. He couldn’t help but grin at her. As they crossed a side road and continued down the sidewalk, Martin smiled at him.
“A woman to sleep between us. Have a family with. I’d like to have a couple of little ones. This wound made me realize I’m not going to live forever. It would be nice to leave the ranch to our sons.”
It would be. But where would they find such a woman?
“There’s no way we could find a mail-order bride before my father arrives. I wonder if there is anyone here in town?”
Daniel’s boots made a rhythmic clunk on the wooden sidewalk while Martin’s leg made an odd thump. A crowd was gathered at the corner and slowly Daniel made his way through.
“What’s going on?”
“A dust cloud headed our way,” a man said.
Suddenly the man at the front of the crowd turned and yelled. “Stampede. Get off the streets. Stampede.”
A spear of terror gripped Daniel’s chest. “Get in the nearest building.”
Fear for his friend had him shoving him toward a mercantile. The sound of hooves pounding on the ground growing closer and closer.
In front of them, a young woman fell to the ground, her heel hung up on a board. Daniel hollered, “Martin, go on.”
There was no way he was going to let her be trampled to death. Leaning down, he scooped her into his arms, snapping the shoe, and began to run. She didn’t weigh much, but it was awkward with a stranger as he hurried down the sidewalk.
“Mama,” she cried.
“She’s ahead of us. She keeps turning back and looking.” They were the last ones in the store as the out-of-control cattle ran through the streets. The building shook from the pounding of the heavy hooves on the ground.
It was a terrifying scene, and as he set the woman down, he could feel her shaking. People stood near the windows, staring out at the wild animals running panicked.
“Thank you,” she said, glancing up with the most gorgeous emerald eyes he’d ever seen. “I’ve never seen a stampede.”
“It’s not something you ever want to witness again.”
Just then, Martin came up to him. “You all right?” he asked the young woman.
“Yes, thanks to this man,” she said.
“Daniel Hamilton, and this is my good friend Martin Perkins,” he said, gazing at the beauty, mesmerized by her full lips. The urge to kiss her was strong, but he knew that would be inappropriate.
She smiled and dimples appeared on her cheeks. “Georgia Carroll.”
His arms were still partially around her and she felt like she fit right where she belonged and he didn’t want to let her go.
Just then her mother found her and ran to her.
“Oh, Georgia, I was so afraid. The crowd carried me away and I couldn’t get back to you.”
“It’s all right, Mama. This nice young man scooped me up and carried me into the building. I think I lost a shoe, but that’s all right.”
Daniel felt the woman slip from his arms and he wanted her back. The woman’s curves were well rounded, her long dark hair was past her shoulders, and she had a pert little nose he wanted to kiss the tip of.
But more than anything, he longed to raise her skirts and slid his hard cock between her legs, sinking into her depths. There was something about her that reached into his soul and connected with him. Was it just relief from surviving the stampede or something else?
“Thank you, young man,” her mother said. “I was so afraid.”
If her mother knew his thoughts, she would slap him.
“Glad I could help, ma’am,” he said, and hoped that in the crowded space, she could not see his rock-hard cock pressing against his pants.
The door opened and the sheriff stepped in. “Everyone all right?”
There were shouts of yes, but Daniel couldn’t keep his eyes off Miss Georgia Carroll. He gave a quick glance at Martin and the two men’s eyes connected and Martin nodded. They were thinking the same thing.
“Good to know,” the sheriff finished. “Stampede is over.”
“What caused the cattle to run like that?” Georgia asked.
“We’ll never know. It could have happened miles back,” he told her.
Her mother moved between him and her daughter, and tipping his hat, he smiled at her. “You ladies have a wonderful day.”
“Thank you again, sir,” she said to him. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something else, but she didn’t.
Georgia gave him a little wave as they walked out the door.
He turned to Martin. “Georgia Carroll. I think we need to learn all we can about that beautiful young woman.”
“Agreed,” Martin said.

Two Cowboys One Bride
|

Two Cowboys One Bride

On a hot August day, Bella Walker sat inside a room in the back of the church. A place brides had waited for years. Today was her wedding day. Uneasiness gripped her as she waited for the ceremony to begin. The chapel was filled with people from town and she heard the whispers regarding her marriage. 
Even she had misgivings. 
No, she wasn’t in love, but no other man had courted her. No one seemed to want her and she was nearing the old maid age of twenty-one. She longed for a home and family, children, and a man to love and care for her. 
Was Lester Clark the man to give her what she desired? Share his bed and bear his children?
A sigh escaped her as she thought of her own parents. They had a love match. And when one died, the other one went soon after. 
An only child, they had left her wealthy and alone when they passed from this world to the next. She had a modest home in town where she could comfortably live her life, but that wasn’t what she wanted. 
Sitting in the bride’s room, she stared out the window at the beautiful Texas sky, pondering her decision to wed. Living in Blessing, Texas, there were not many eligible men and if she didn’t marry Lester, then who knew if she would ever have the chance to meet and marry another man. 
She could be alone. The old maid Walker or the crazy lady in town who children ran from. Living and dying alone. 
The sound of voices laughing and joking came to her and she realized it was Lester and his friend Randal Jones, his best man. They sounded drunk. 
When she glanced out the window, she saw them staggering toward the church. Lester was handsome, not make-your-knees weak, or even make-your-heart-race good looking. Just a steady man or so she believed. 
Her husband to be was inebriated.
But now, the two men were holding each other up, laughing and giggling. 
“Are you certain you want to do this,” Randal asked. “She’s short and chubby.”
His words stung. No, she wasn’t tall and her figure had often been described as voluptuous. But this monster was calling her fat. 
“She’s rich,” Lester said with a grin. “She’s wealthy, and after tonight, I will never have to crawl between her legs again. She thinks we’re building a hotel together, but just as soon as I can, I’m headed to the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory alone. Looking for gold.”
He gave an evil laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? She could suffer an accident.”
Tears sprung in her eyes. Lester was willing to kill her in order to get to her inheritance? 
“You dirty dog you,” Randal said with a laugh. “Now I understand what you’re doing. I don’t know if I feel for her or think you’re the smartest man I know. Marry the heiress and live off the spoils.”
Lester grinned and slapped Randal on the back. “This is why I’ve been drinking all morning. Look at what I’m marrying. Could you fuck that?”
A gasp escaped her at the coldness of her soon-to-be husband. She hung her head in shame. Was she that ugly? Yes, her hips were wide and she was short, but his words were cruel. 
At the thought of his kisses, a shiver ran down her spine. After hearing him talk about her this way, how could she marry him? Sleep with him? 
How had she thought that marrying Lester would be right for her? 
“Come, on man, let’s get in the church, so I can marry this little heifer,” he said with a laugh. 
A heifer? He thought of her as a cow? And he wanted her to finance their new hotel. The only thing she would finance for Lester was a one-way ticket to hell. 
Pain ripped through Bella as she stared around the room where happy brides should be. Tears trickled down her cheeks. What was she doing? Was she willing to settle for a man who obviously didn’t love and planned an accident to kill her?
“Oh, hell no,” she said suddenly standing. A calmness came over her and a certainty regarding her decision. 
She had to get out of here. She had to get away now.

Loving My Cowboys
|

Loving My Cowboys

Lillian Bradley sat astride a large red mare, gazing out at Texas’s rolling hills, counting the cattle for a third time. Someone was stealing her cows. 
With a sigh, her eyes roamed across the land she loved. All this acreage, cattle, goats, horses, and even a bunch of chickens, but they were all she had. Lily was alone. 
Yellow fever had raced through her family, killing everyone but herself. Alone, she didn’t understand how she had survived, but here she was with a large ranch and no one to help her with the many chores and responsibilities. 
Some days, it was more than a body could bear, but she refused to give up. 
Dust rose in the distance and she watched as a rider rode toward her. As the stranger drew closer, a groan rose in her throat. Jim White of the Big W Ranch, her neighbor, was coming for a visit. Rather an offer. 
The man owned the largest spread in this section of Texas and was known for his shady deals, swindling, and even his prostitutes. 
Pushing her long blonde curls back, her hand came to rest on the rifle she had become accustomed to being at her side. 
He pulled his horse up beside her. “Good morning, Miss Bradley. How are you today?”
She turned and gave him an irritated frown. The wind blew her blonde hair into her face and she brushed it back. “Someone is stealing my cattle.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “You know, a pretty young woman like yourself shouldn’t be worrying over lost cattle.”
“Maybe not, but yellow fever didn’t give me much choice.”
Her mare shimmied nervously, her paws dancing, eager to get away. 
“Let me buy the ranch from you. Or even better, have you considered my son Matt? You are of marrying age. We could combine our land together into one big family ranch.”
Like hell. She would shoot herself before she’d marry his weasel son. 
“Thank you, but I’m not selling my family’s land. Their deaths will not be in vain. As for marrying your son, no thank you.”
It was all she could do to keep from screaming oh hell no. Not Matt White, a mean, cussing, tobacco spitting boy who knew his father would always get him out of trouble. 
Mr. White’s face turned red and his lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t care. “A young woman should not be running a ranch.”
“And yellow fever should not have killed my family.” She sighed and turned to him. “For the last six months, I’ve taken care of this ranch and I plan on continuing. Need to find a new helper since Mr. Garza disappeared.”
The man was like family and she was so disappointed he left her when she needed him the most. For nearly fifteen years, the man worked on the ranch and then one day, he just vanished. 
“Miss Bradley,” Jim said, his voice coaxing and gentle. “I could take the worry off your hands. You would be free to be the young woman you long to be.”
It was true that she pined to have a carefree life again. One where all she had to worry about was helping her mother with dinner or the laundry. Where her grandmother baked a cake every week. Her grandfather and she went fishing when the weather permitted. But those days were gone. Stolen from her by a hideous disease. 
“I’m so glad you came by, Mr. White. If you know anything about who might be taking my cattle, tell them I’m a fine shot with a rifle and I will not hesitate to kill them. Also, if you see my helper, Mr. Garza, tell him I would like to talk with him about increasing his salary.”
Often times, she worried something had happened to Mr. Garza. Because she didn’t think he would have left without saying good-bye. At least, she hoped not. 
“Will do, Miss Bradley. You think about my offer. I’m willing to give you top dollar for your ranch.”
Top dollar, her ass. The man was a known cheat and would not give her anything for the Sweet B Ranch. Over the years, her father had complained how when times got bad, Ole Jim was there to steal the property for little or nothing from the ranchers in dire straits. 
“Good day, Mr. White.”
It was a clear signal for him to leave. She had an appointment with the banker later today and she needed to be riding into town but would wait until he was out of sight. Though she doubted he would do something, she could see him setting fire to the house to force her to sell. 
The man was a vulture of the worst kind. Preying on the weak and, right now, she was in his sights. 
What she needed was a husband. Someone to help her with the ranch. To keep rustlers from cutting the fence and stealing her herd. Someone to fill the house with love and laughter. Someone to help her create her own family.

Two Cowboys’ Christmas Bride
|

Two Cowboys’ Christmas Bride

Anna Best never dreamed her life could go so wrong. Two weeks before Christmas, her uncle sold her to the local whorehouse. One evening before the madam of the house could sell off her virginity, she’d been drugged and abducted. 
Now she found herself in a rough tow sack that smelled like potatoes being hauled around in the back of a wagon. Whoever opened this bag better be prepared, because she would come out fighting.
Anna was no simpering woman and she was aching to give a good tongue lashing. The bouncing of the wagon had jolted her awake to her head pounding, her wrists tied, her mouth covered, and stuffed in a bag. 
Not exactly how she’d planned her escape from the brothel. 
The wagon wheels came to a stop and she listened as two voices whispered in the darkness.
“Is this the right place,” a female voice said.
“I think so,” a young man replied. 
“Come on, lift her out of the wagon and let’s leave her on the doorstep.”
Anna wanted to scream, but all she could do was make muted noises. Still, she could kick.
“Good thing you stuffed her mouth, Ma.”
Ma? A woman was involved in her kidnapping?
Fury roared through her as they dragged the gunnysack along the back of the wagon. She kicked and flailed her legs trying to create as much havoc for them as possible.
“Stop moving, girl, or I will drop you right here in the dirt,” the woman said quietly. 
Where did she know that voice from?
Tiring, she stopped thrashing as they carried her then set her down on the cold ground.
“Let’s go,” the woman whispered in the darkness.
“Won’t she freeze to death?” a young male voice asked.
“Not this one. The devil is strong within her,” the woman said.
What? Did the woman believe she wanted to be taken to a whorehouse? To have her uncle, a family member, sell her? All she had asked for in life was a loving family. And look where that had gotten her.
Sold to a brothel.
As they walked away, the sounds of their retreating footsteps crunching on the ground sent fear slamming into Anna. Trembling, she lay balled up in the darkness, unable to discern where they left her. What if wild wolves or coyotes found her?
What if she died right here inside this bag?
The cold started to creep into the potato sack. In Blessing, Texas, the winters were mild, but still she started to shake. It was December, not exactly a hot summer day. 
Doubled over inside the bag, she didn’t have room to stretch her legs and they were going numb. She rolled and came up against a hard surface. A barn? House? 
Rocking inside the bag, she hit the wall.
Bang!
Did anyone live here? Did she want to find out?
Bang.
Bang.
Tiring, her shoulder throbbing, she heard a noise.
A door opened.
“What the hell?”
“Hold that lantern a little higher, Mack,” a voice said. 
“What’s the note say?” a deeper male voice asked. 
“Merry Christmas.”
Anna’s temper exploded. She writhed and screamed as much as she could inside the bag.
The men cursed. “Someone’s in there.”
With relief, she felt them untying the bag and pulling it down then lifting her to her numb feet. Her eyes were blinded by the light of the lantern.
“Oh my God, it’s a woman.”
“A damn fine-looking woman,” the other man said. 
Slowly her eyes adjusted to the light as she stared at two extremely handsome men standing in the doorway without shirts on. Muscled arms and chests with wisps of dark hair glowed in the warm light. 
Who were these men and why had she been delivered here?
“Santa brought us an early Christmas present. A woman.”


Their Perfect Bride
|

Their Perfect Bride

“Back at the market, that beautiful brunette behind the counter was flirting with you,” he said, grinning at Jesse. The man swayed side to side with the motion of his chestnut mare. 
After making a supply run to Butte, Montana, the two men were headed home to Bridgewater. The green hills and rising mountains gave Alex a feeling of homecoming. Of belonging. A place where he wanted to raise a family.
With Jesse by his side, a woman would complete their plans of home and family.
“Don’t matter, she’s not the right woman for us. Besides are you certain this is the year we should bring a woman home? By next spring, we’ll know if the cattle we brought in will make our herd strong. It might be better to wait.”
With the cattle they had driven from Texas, their ranch would hopefully be successful. After being gone for three months, they both were eager to spend time on their little piece of heaven.
A woman would make everything perfect.
Alex was ready to settle down, to find a woman to fill his bed at night and warm his heart in the morning. Yes, he wanted a wife. A beautiful woman on the outside and the inside to build a life with his friend Jesse.
The house was built. The new cattle should make their herd stout. And he had an itch for not just any woman. A special lady they would cherish.
Always the logical thinker, Jesse made very few quick decisions and that made them a great pair. But Alex wanted a wife now. Since the fight in Bozeman that left a scar down his cheek, they had not had a woman, and he was feeling the pressure. Only this time, he didn’t want an easy woman, but rather someone they would protect with their life.
“Everyone in Bridgewater has someone, except us. Winter will be arriving soon and the thought of curling up beside our own woman, well, it makes me want to find someone and marry her.”
For years, they had talked about finding the right woman who would fit their lifestyle. Seeing their friends at Bridgewater with their women left a hole in Alex’s heart. The longing glances, the slight touches, the moans overheard in the night. That was what he wanted. A woman willing to give herself and love both of them.
“And if we find the wrong woman to ease your itch, then we’ll be miserable. No, we need to wait until we find the perfect bride for us. Someone who will accept and enjoy the Bridgewater way of life. Someone who will accept the way we live and love us.”
“True.” 
Whoever this mystery woman was, she had to consent to them both and some women couldn’t adjust to having two men love her. Whoever they married, they would treat her like a queen, but would expect her to trust them. 
“You’re itching to get your cock wet. It’s been too long, that’s all. We should return to Butte and visit the whorehouse.”
The girls at Miss Rose’s knew how to fuck. The lovely ladies accommodated a man’s every desire, but he was ready for more. A willing woman that when he told her to bend over, she couldn’t wait to answer both their demands, but someone who would love them and they would honor and protect her.
At this time, he wanted more than just a tumble between the sheets, he wanted to experience a real family life. To honor and pledge his loyalty to their wife and only her. 
Not like the family he grew up with. Something new and fresh.
A sigh escaped him at the memory of his ungrateful bastard father.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I’ve even been looking through that mail order bride catalog. Time to settle down. All we need is the right woman.”
Jesse glanced to the horizon, his eyes narrowing. “I agree. But when the time is right, she’ll come along. A woman would complete our life.”
Knowing not to press Jesse, Alex rode on for several minutes, enjoying the rugged splendor of the Montana mountains. Maybe after getting home and settling in, he’d approach the subject again.
Two voices raised in anger came from a distance.
“Did you hear that?” Alex thought he heard two people arguing. Long ago, he had learned Jesse’s hearing was more finely attuned than his. 
“What?” Jesse turned his head.
Suddenly a scream echoed nearby. A female’s scream. They shared a quick look filled with concern.
“Someone’s in trouble,” he said. What the fuck was a female doing out here? Almost in perfect unison, they charged, leaving the road and galloping toward the crying.