Brother's Bride: Santa Fe Girls, #1

By Cheyanne West

She rejected his marriage arrangement and created an enemy. Isabel thought she'd made a clever escape, but her past found her and calamity struck.

Two brothers, one in love and one obligated. Who has the heart daring enough to fight for Isabel and will he succeed?

Cheyanne West's Clean and Wholesome novelette American Mail Order Bride Historical Western box set romance series is enjoyable for all ages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Big Sage Press
• Release date: Sep 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393619482

Book preview

A New Prospect

I sabel Goodman didn’t know how to break free from the path her life was taking …

Sitting on her bed with a book in her hand. Isabel had just finished the long list of chores her stepmom, Ms. Margaret, had assigned her and looked forward to some time to herself. It saddened her every time she addressed her stepmom as Ms. Margaret, but she’d always insisted on the formal use of her name. She wondered what it would have been like to call her Momma. Isabel barely remembered her birth mother who’d died when she was three years of age.

Isabel did her best to brush the sad thoughts away. She was just about to become lost in the book she’d chosen when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She gave a small sigh and set the book aside, hoping that it wasn’t her stepmom with another chore she wanted her to do.

Come in.

The door opened and her younger brother, Mark, poked his head inside. Mr. Charles Benson is in the parlor. He wants to speak with you.

Isabel groaned. Can’t you tell him I’m not home? I don’t feel like talking to him right now.

Mark shook his head, but he grinned. Ma answered the door. She was the one who invited him in and told me to fetch you.

Isabel gave a huge sigh and stood to her feet. I guess I have to go down there then, don’t I?

Yep. Mark continued to grin.

You don’t have to act so happy about it, Isabel complained. He wants to marry me.

I know. Chuck told me at school yesterday you might be his new stepma.

Isabel frowned at her brother. I will not marry Mr. Benson. He’s almost as old as Pa was.

You better tell him that then, since he seems to think you will. Mark’s grin grew even bigger. He brought flowers.

Isabel sighed again.

Mark’s eyes lit up. I know how you can get rid of him. You need to act depressed and unhappy around him. Just act like Momma—that might discourage him. No one wants a depressed and grumpy wife.

Isabel laughed at Mark’s suggestion. I’m not about to change who I am just for a man. I’ll think of another way to break the news.

Mark put a finger to his cheek and tapped it as if mulling over something. What if you …

Isabel laughed again and interrupted him. I’ll get rid of him and then maybe we can play checkers before dinner, okay? Isabel offered, trying to divert Mark’s attention from Mr. Benson’s presence.

Yes! Mark shot a fisted hand in the air. I’ll go set up the board.

Isabel couldn’t help but laugh as her brother took off down the stairs.

She started down the stairs, slower than Mark had, and frowned at the half-open door to the parlor. Mr. Benson had been a close friend of her father’s. He had lost his wife two winters before, leaving behind three young boys. The cold snap had made 1850 the record low for the whole Great Lakes region from Illinois as far west as the Kansas Territory. Isabel had spent almost every day for a few weeks helping in Mr. Benson’s house when his wife had passed to help him adjust. Thanks to her stepmom, he’d gotten into his head that Isabel would be the perfect replacement for his deceased wife and a mother to his three boys. It was the last thing Isabel wanted. Besides the fact that Mr. Benson was almost her pa’s age, she didn’t want to become an instant mother to three rambunctious boys.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and Ms. Margaret stepped to her side.

Mr. Benson is in the parlor, she whispered so the man couldn’t hear her words. Do nothing to discourage him, or you’ll regret it.

Ms. Margaret! Isabel exclaimed in an imploring whisper. I don’t want to marry him.

Her stepmom frowned. Shh! She glanced towards the parlor as if she was making sure Mr. Benson hadn’t heard Isabel’s words. Isabel, you are already twenty years old. By remaining in my house you no longer have a choice. You’ve chased off all the other young men who wanted to court you. Don’t chase off Mr. Benson. Give him a chance. He is a decent man who is well-off. You could do much worse.

He may be a good man, but he’s old, Isabel thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud. She knew her stepmom was concerned that no one in their small town of Illinois had shown interest in her, and that it troubled her stepmom that Isabel might end up an old maid. Socially, this was unacceptable. Ms. Margaret would consider it an embarrassment. But Isabel had decided a long time ago that she would rather be an old maid than marry someone she couldn’t love and who wouldn’t love her in return.

Ms. Margaret roughly pushed her towards the parlor. Isabel squared her shoulders and walked toward the waiting Mr. Benson.

When she entered the room, Mr. Benson stood to his feet, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers in his thick hands. Some flowers were already wilted and, if she were to guess, he had picked them from the meadow he had needed to pass on the way to her house. Even though she thought it was sweet he’d picked the flowers, she knew she needed to put a stop to these visits. No one would make her marry this man.

Ten minutes later, Mr. Benson left the house looking dejected and her stepmom was livid. Isabel played two games of checkers with Mark. And her stepmom gave her the silent treatment for the rest of the day, and a ton of chores the next several days.

One week later, her stepmom still wasn’t talking to her with civility, so Isabel decided to give her some space and walk into town to visit her friend Ruth Barlow. She was glad she made that decision because, the moment she saw Ruth, she could tell that her friend was torn up about something. Ruth always made sure everyone knew when she was not happy about something.

Let’s go to lunch, Ruth offered. I’ll pay.

Isabel hesitated before nodding in agreement. She left Ruth standing in the doorway while she told her stepmom where she was going and then they both walked down the street to the café that sat on the corner of Main Street. Isabel slipped her arm through Ruth’s as they walked, silently giving her support for whatever was wrong. She knew Ruth enough to know she wouldn’t tell Isabel what had made her so upset until she was ready, or until her drama had reached its pinnacle. Instead, Isabel chatted about the weather, gave Ruth a brief rundown of Mr. Benson’s visit and Ms. Margaret’s vengeance, and gave her opinion about last Sunday’s sermon on forgiveness that her stepmom clearly hadn’t heard a word of.

They sat at a table in the café and gave the waitress their orders. Isabel turned to her friend.

Okay, now tell me what’s wrong.

Gregory … he broke off our engagement last night, Ruth stammered. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she pulled out a handkerchief to dry her face.

Isabel wasn’t sure what to say. She was glad Ruth would no longer marry Gregory. The man wasn’t good enough for her. Even if he was vastly wealthy, he simply had not treated her well. She never had been able to see what Ruth saw in him.

Did he say why? Isabel asked, doing her best to sound concerned.

"He … met someone else who has superior connections. He met her when he went