Made for Montana: The Black Rock Brides, #1

By Erin Grace

Abandoned as a baby, Elaine Dawson has long dreamed of a better life away from the work houses of New York City - and Black Rock, Montana, holds the key.

...or so she thinks.

But, when everything she'd set her heart on turns to dust, Elaine has two choices – return penniless to New York, or forge a new life for herself in Black Rock.

Determined to finally have a ranch of his own, John Garrett is driven by ghosts from his past. Hard working, he has no time for distractions – especially when they come in the shape of a feisty widow from back east.

With their futures at stake, each will do anything to protect what is theirs – except risk their hearts once again.

Neither was looking for a second chance, but will love give them a choice?

**Before reading Erin's books, please note that she respectfully writes using both UK English and US English, depending where the book is set.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin Grace
• Release date: Aug 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393575849

Book preview

Chapter One

Montana, 1895

She was going to die.

Elaine Dawson’s eyes widened as the stranger clamped her mouth shut with one hand while his other grasped her hip and moved her backward. Heart pounding, she winced as her back met the rough wooden timbers of a wall, sending dust floating around her face.

Keep quiet, woman. A tattered cowboy hat covered shoulder-length dark brown hair, but the scoundrel’s face was hidden from view as he looked away.

Stunned by the sudden assault, she could hardly think straight, barely breathe.

Definitely going to die.

Panting, she glanced toward the end of the alleyway, and fear took hold as violent shadows played out against a wall like some horrific puppet show. Her pulse raced, body trembled. What was happening?

Dazed, she swallowed hard as raucous laughter echoed around, nipping at her like a pack of hungry dogs closing in on their prey.

Get away. She must get away.

The scream she’d been struggling to release finally found its way to her throat but was muffled against a worn leather-gloved hand.

Damn you, Montana! She should have stayed in New York.

Quiet. Her pleas were silenced under his grasp, as he remained turned toward the argument out of view. Stop wiggling and listen. Whatever’s happening over there, you can’t get involved. Those men you can hear won’t care who you are or what you’re doing here if they catch you interfering in their business. Do you understand?

She was in trouble. That much she knew for certain.

A dull thump, followed by a hoarse cry from the shadows made her shudder as muted voices drifted along the alley.

Her brow furrowed. Frank?

She had to get away from this man and get the sheriff…if there was one in town. But, by then it might be too late. Damn it! Never had she felt so frustrated, so helpless, but she refused to do nothing.

Gritting her teeth, she gathered her strength and made ready to fight as the stranger turned to her.

But, her determination wilted, then deserted her as she fell into two deep pools of the clearest blue. No sound. No panic. Instead, a startling sense of connection that reached down to her toes.

Fifty? I don’t owe you more than twenty, you bastard! A frightened voice called out unheeded.

Frank! She glanced back toward the shadows. Those men. They had her Frank.

What could she do? They were hurting him, and she was powerless to help. Not that he deserved it, but she couldn’t bear to see him killed.

Twenty? Interest, my friend. Interest. If you can’t pay, you shouldn’t gamble. My town. My rules.

Frank was in terrible trouble.

Look at me. Are you listening? The stranger touched her chin, moved her face to meet his gaze. You have no idea the danger we are in. If you did, you wouldn’t have been foolish enough to wander into this alley alone. We must leave now. Do you understand what I’m telling you?

Yes. She understood. This was her chance to escape.

Regaining her senses, she blinked and nodded slowly as her body relaxed a little beneath his hold, but those blue eyes sparked with a steely wariness that sent shivers along her spine. Could he read her mind?

Now, I’m going to remove my hand. He gently began to lift his hand away. Stay quiet and we will leave—

Help! Her cry was less powerful than she’d hoped, stopped short as her lips were crushed beneath his, smothering the last sounds of protest.

No! She tried to push against him as her legs thrashed out amongst a tangle of petticoats, but his strength was too much as his body pushed against hers, pinning her firmly against the wall.

His kiss deepened, as if he was somehow trying to distract her from everything but him. But she wasn’t that easily persuaded.

Woo-ee, would you look at that, Amos? I see someone’s getting some sweetness.

The acrid smell of whiskey, chewing tobacco, and unbathed male suddenly surrounded her like a silent threat. The men from the other alley? Without seeing them she could tell that whoever was there, they were close and they meant danger. And, despite her fears, she now clung to the stranger in the hope he was the better choice of the two. Heaven help her.

Hell, yeah, Jeffrey. She looks kind of new, don’t you think? Wonder if she’s from the saloon? Mabel said she was getting some fancy new girls in from New York City. Wouldn’t mind a little taste of this one myself.

At the comment, the stranger shielded her with his body, as he reached down one side and pulled up her skirt a little. Beneath the soft cotton ruffles, his hand gripped her thigh as he released her mouth and began kissing the sensitive skin of her neck.

She gasped as panic took hold. What in Hell was he doing?

"Shh. His soft, hot whisper rasped along her ear. I’m going to reach for my gun on my left. If they try anything, I want you to drop down to the dirt."

The dirt? She was going to die.

She nodded slightly as he continued his gentle assault, his unshaven bristles leaving gooseflesh in their wake. Heaven help her. Her knees weakened, and despite her best efforts to remain strong, if he kept kissing her neck in such a way she may fall sooner then he planned.

Aww, don’t look like she’s going to be free anytime soon, Amos. Let’s get some whiskey before we head back to camp.

Yeah, I guess so. Heh, heh. Enjoy, fella.

As the sound of their voices faded, he released her mouth and stepped back.

I think they’re gone.

Dazed by the sudden movement, she stumbled forward only to be held in his embrace. Her head spun for a moment as she smelled traces of salty linen and saddle.

Her body trembled in his arms as she tried to push him away. Let me go.

Hold steady, now. He removed his hand from her waist. Let me explain.

Explain?

Pain radiated along her arm as her hand collided with his cheek and mouth. Oh Lord! She cradled her hand and rested against the wall. Her fingers tingled and began to swell. Half expecting him to strike her back, she prepared to run. Yet he didn’t move. Why didn’t he move?

Wary of him still, she gritted her teeth and breathed through the pain. What on earth were you doing, kissing me like that?

I should have thought that obvious. He wiped a drop of blood from his lip with the back of his hand. But as you seem new to these parts, let me explain something to you. Those men, just now, belong to Everett Green, and they aren’t known for their gentle hospitality—including for women who meddle in their business. You were foolish enough to go into this alley alone, and maybe I should have just left you be, but damn it if you gave me no choice. Even if you are one of Mabel’s new girls, you should learn when to keep out of other people’s business. I’ve no desire for either of us to wear a bullet in the chest, and I may not be here to help you next time.

I didn’t need your kind of help. She flexed her throbbing hand and gingerly arranged her skirts. And, I wasn’t meddling.

Sure you were.

Her mouth popped open at his remark. Wretch! She scowled. And, I don’t belong to the saloon.

He shrugged and checked his gun before replacing it in his holster. Makes no difference to me. I don’t judge people out here.

But, I am not a… Oh, what’s the use? Think what you will, but you didn’t have to kiss me.

You’re right. I didn’t. His cool gaze fixated on her lips for a brief moment, before he tipped the edge of his hat and turned to walk away. That was my second mistake.

Trembling from head to toe, she rested against the outside wall of the town post office, her stomach nothing but a tangle of twisted knots. Was she bound for bedlam? One minute she’d been waiting for her fiancé at the hotel and the next, she was in trouble and being kissed by a stranger.

All in all, it had been a Hell of a day.

There she goes, cussing again. It was the least attractive of her less-than-distinguished attributes. Every one of the Sisters at the orphanage had said so. Sister Mary Margaret had even gone so far as to predict she would never find a decent man to marry. Sighing, she bit her bottom lip and rubbed at the bruise swelling on her hand.

Perhaps Sister Mary Margaret had been right?

Her shoulders sagged. In New York, she’d become accustomed to living cautiously, always travelling in the daylight where possible. A lone woman was an easy target for the unscrupulous. For some reason, she thought it would be different here in Black Rock.

Fact was, she should have been be married by now and somehow that would have made her less vulnerable. Should have been. But that dream was gone.

Though, for a very brief moment, that dream had been a wonderful one.

An aching smile creased her lips as she wiped away the falling tears she’d tried so hard to hold back.

From the moment she’d arrived that morning on the railway platform, she’d been instantly enchanted by everything around her. Stretched out before her had been a vast, green valley sparsely dotted with farmhouses and small patches of woodlands. Smudges of smoke rose from distant chimneys, and frosted mountain peaks lined the far side of the valley to the west. She’d smiled and blinked as the warm sun tickled her nose, almost making her sneeze. What a magnificent place. Though she was a stranger there, a big blue sky above had greeted her like an old friend.

Black Rock was a far cry from where she’d come from.

This was it, she’d thought. This was her chance to start a new life. Just her and Frank.

Idiot.

Now look where she was. Abandoned, left destitute, and with no future, she’d laugh if it wasn’t all so frightening. The first day of her new life could have been her last. Yet, she’d gone into that alleyway trying to save the very same man who’d destroyed all her hopes of happiness.

Frank Wainwright.

She steadied herself and inhaled a deep breath as the morning’s events played through her mind like a bad stage show. Perhaps she was naïve, but she’d trusted him, right up until she’d stood there in the hotel holding the note Frank had written.

He’d taken all her savings and left her—and he wasn’t coming back.

She’d gripped the letter tight he’d written until it crushed within her grasp. It had to have been a mistake. Had to be. All of it.

But, instead of a ring on her finger, the only thing Frank had given her was his debt to the hotel and a broken heart.

Numb with disbelief, she’d handed over all but a few coins in her purse to pay the hotel bill he’d left in her name. Five dollars and fifty cents. Nearly half of her savings. Other than wiring her money to Frank, she’d spent most of it on her travel to Black Rock.

She sniffed back welling tears, stood, and tried to straighten her disheveled appearance. No point in dwelling on what had never been. She had to take care of herself, just as she’d always done. And, that meant staying out of trouble.

Looking back now, it had been foolish to approach those men in the alley alone. She should be grateful to the reckless stranger for intervening when he did.

And, she’d slapped him.

She winced as she moved her aching fingers. She had to admit he had a strong jaw. Like hitting stone. Yet he hadn’t threatened to strike her back, nor had she truly felt frightened of him, come to think of it. Guilt pricked her conscience. He’d been trying to help her, despite the fact he thought her a whore. Perfect. Could matters get any worse?

Her poor head pounded.

She surveyed the busy street, but could find no sign of the stranger. Bother. Well, if she ever did cross his path again, she would thank him, not so much for the kiss, but for risking himself to help her.

In the meantime, she needed to find a safe place to stay, now more than ever. A chill rippled down along her spine. What if those men in the alley come looking for her to pay Frank’s gambling debt? She wouldn’t put it past him now to involve her in his problems. The stranger said those men were dangerous. What if they came after her for money she simply didn’t have? Fear gripped her as anger rose from deep within.

Damn that weasel!

She gasped and turned away as two weather-worn cowboys stepped up onto the verandah and brushed past her.