Wife for Hire: Wives of Bravado County, #1

By Marie Patrick

Mail Order Bride Merrilee O'Shea's hopes are shattered when she arrives at the run-down Eternal Hope Ranch in Texas to marry Reece Wescott, only to learn that her husband-to-be has died and she was unexpected. She can't go back to where she came from—the War Between the States took her husband, and her home, and her brother-in-law has tried to compromise her. She has no choice but to accept the job as housekeeper for her late husband-to-be's brothers, even though one of the brothers, Jared, doesn't want her there.

Jared considers Merrilee just another mess his brother made that he'll have to fix and he doesn't want anything to do with her. He, and his remaining brother Gabriel, are trying to bring the ranch back from the brink of ruin, and he has no time for another responsibility. But as Merrilee settles in, Jared notices that despite all she has lost, she manages to maintain a sweet, sunny disposition. He doesn't understand it, but he's drawn to it…and her. He's determined to resist, because as far as he's concerned, he doesn't deserve either.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marie Patrick
• Release date: Apr 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215150689

Marie Patrick

Marie Patrick lives in beautiful, sunny Arizona, where inspiration to write historical romance is in every amazing sunset. Find Marie Patrick at MariePatrick.com and Facebook.com/pages/Marie-Patrick, or email her at [e-mail].

Book preview

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Wife Wanted

Also by Marie Patrick

About the Author

WIFE FOR HIRE

Copyright © 2023 by Marie Patrick

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced in whole or in part, scanned, photocopied, recorded, distributed in any printed or electronic form, or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Print ISBN: 979-8391130031

Book Cover and formatting by Bella Media Management

Printed in the United States of America for Worldwide Distribution

DEDICATION

To Lexi Post, critique partner and sister of my heart, who never lets me take the easy way out;

To Jan Walkosz and Paige Wood, beta readers extraordinaire, who always make my stories better;

To Carol at Bella Media Management, for her expertise and kindness;

To my son and his lovely bride to be - I love a great love story; and to my husband, always my hero, who continues to support and inspire me every day...

Thank you all! I couldn't do this without you!

CHAPTER ONE

Possibility, Texas, 1867

THIS IS IT, MISS.

Merrilee O’Shea squinted against the bright glare of sunlight, nearly blinded after the relative dimness of the stagecoach’s confines, as the door swung open. She blinked several times and focused on the grinning countenance of the driver who’d taken a shine to her as soon as she boarded the stagecoach in Austin…after admonishing her for traveling alone.

Possibility, Texas.

He reached inside for her hand, and she accepted it gratefully. After being cooped up for the past several hours, she didn’t think she could climb down herself. Her muscles were stiff and sore from trying to stay in her seat over the rutted road. The long trip from Princeton, New Jersey to Possibility, Texas, by train then stagecoach hadn’t been the easiest. But at least she’d made it in one piece with no mishaps. And not a moment too soon, either, as the meager funds left in her draw-string purse would testify.

Thank you. She grabbed her small portmanteau and stepped from the vehicle, though a bit awkwardly. I appreciate your kindness.

My pleasure, ma’am. He released her hand then touched the brim of his hat. Are you sure this is where you’re going?

Merrilee looked around and bit back the sudden sting of disappointment. Possibility, Texas, wasn’t anything like she’d been led to believe from the letters Reece Wescott had sent her. What he had described as a thriving town was little more than a wide spot in the road between Austin and San Antonio. It boasted a small hotel, a saloon, a general store, a school, a bank, and a church. There were a few other businesses and some scattered houses as well, but not much else, except enough wind-born dust to cover her already dirty burgundy velvet gown.

If this is Possibility, then yes. She swallowed her despair and brushed at her skirts with a gloved hand, then gave up in frustration after a few swipes. She hadn’t cleaned the velvet at all. She’d merely pushed the dirt deeper into the nap of the fabric. What’s more, her white glove was no longer white. With a sigh, she pulled it off and stuffed it into her portmanteau then did the same with its companion.

All right then. I’ll bring your trunk to the hotel. He climbed up the side of the coach and grabbed her trunk with one hand, his other holding steady to the brass rail around the top of the stagecoach for support, then slowly, he lowered it to the ground.

No, thank you. In front of the general store is fine. I won’t be staying at the hotel.

He gave her a look of pure pity, which she could have done without. She didn’t need or want anyone feeling sorry for her. At this point, she couldn’t afford the sentiment, as close to tears as she was with uncertainty and disillusionment.

Her throat constricted as the sharp prick of those tears stung her eyes. She hadn’t cried since she received the news her husband, Donal, a Colonel in the Union Army, had died in the Battle of Fair Oaks, Virginia, in October, 1864. She hadn’t cried when she’d been forced to give up her home and move in with her sister, Diana, and her husband a year after that. Or when Diana’s heart had stopped beating a few short months ago. She wasn’t about to now, though it was proving difficult to keep those tears at bay.

Will you be all right, Miss?

She squared her shoulders and pasted a smile she didn’t feel on her face. Yes, of course. Thank you for your concern.

He picked up her trunk, brought it up the stairs outside the general store and pushed it against the wall beside the door. Merrilee followed him then handed him a coin from her purse. He tried to refuse it, but she insisted. You’ve been very kind.

He took the coin reluctantly. Thank you, ma’am. You keep yourself safe now, ya hear. And good luck to ya. He gave her a grin and headed toward the stagecoach. He waved once after he picked up the reins and then he was gone, leaving her alone in a strange place. Despite the heat of the day, fear skittered up her spine and made her shiver.

Am I a fool?

Most definitely, she answered her own silent question. Who else but a fool replied to an advertisement for a wife and accepted a marriage proposal through the mail then struck out for parts unknown with no more than a promise on paper?

She hadn’t had any other choices as her situation with her brother-in-law had grown more and more intolerable. Going back to his home in Princeton wasn’t an option. Not only did she not have the funds to return, but if she did, she’d be right back where she started. Oh, she hadn’t minded taking care of Diana. She considered it a privilege to do so. Diana had never been well and truly did need her before she passed, but her brother-in-law, the good reverend Elliott Nuwirth was a different story. He believed that, as a widow, she’d be receptive to his advances.

She wasn’t. Indeed, she found Elliott to be repulsive and cruel and a hypocrite as well. He taught theological studies at the seminary and on Sundays, he stood before his congregation and preached fidelity and Godliness, but that was all to hide his true nature.

When Diana hadn’t been looking, he pursued Merrilee with unrelenting eagerness, even trying to gain entry to her room after she retired for the night. After the first attempt, Merrilee locked her door. The next day, she’d found the lock removed entirely and tossed on her bed, a blatant reminder that he would get what he wanted, whether she wanted him or not. From then on, she moved her bureau in front of the door to block him, but that didn’t stop him from pushing her against the wall in the hallway as he passed, his body pressing into hers while he whispered such obscene things in her ear, Merrilee had to swallow the bile that rose to her throat.

She’d never told Diana. It would have broken her sister’s already fragile heart, and she just couldn’t do that, but she didn’t know how long she could go on avoiding Elliott’s advances and making sure she was never alone with him. After Diana passed, his behavior had become unbearable.

Absently, she rubbed her upper arm. The bruises from the last time Elliott had grabbed her and pushed her against the wall had faded, but the memory had not. It was only the timely intervention of one of Elliott’s congregation come to call which had saved her that time, but what about the next time? And the time after that?

The truth was that she’d been afraid of him. He’d never stop, never give up his pursuit of her, but she hadn’t quite known what to do. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay in that house any longer. She wasn’t safe. With very little money to her name, there weren’t many options. Yes, she could have hired herself out as a housekeeper, but doubted that would keep Elliott away.

No, she needed the protection of a husband. Or at least, his name. The advertisement she’d spotted in a newspaper for a wife—in Texas, far away from New Jersey―had been the answer to her prayers. She had responded at once. Two letters later, Reece Wescott had proposed, which is how she found herself standing at the entrance to the general store in Possibility, Texas. Alone. Still afraid, but determined, nonetheless.

She hoped Reece Wescott was a good man, a kind man. More so than that, she hoped she hadn’t gone from one bad situation to another.

Taking a deep breath, and willing herself to remain calm, Merrilee shook herself free of her memories and the fear-born paralysis that had her rooted to the spot. She scanned the empty road and the hotel across the street then, squaring her shoulders and holding her head high, she turned and pulled on the door.

Hiya, honey. Can I help ya? A young red-haired woman stood behind a glass-front counter and greeted her as soon as she stepped inside the general store.

Merrilee stiffened. No one had ever called her honey, not even Donal in the eight years they’d been married. Maybe that was the way this woman greeted everyone. Maybe it was just the way things were done in this little town in Texas. Or all of Texas. She’d always heard the people here were friendly. She’d have to get used to it when she married Reece and made Possibility her home.

Once again, she pasted a smile on her face and strode toward the woman. Yes, please. I was wondering where I can hire someone to take me out to the Wescott place.

The Wescott place, huh? You got business out there?

Yes, I do.

If the woman was waiting for her to elaborate, she’d be waiting a long time. Merrilee maintained her smile but kept her information to herself. It was no one’s business why she wanted to head out to the Wescott ranch.

After a long silence, the woman gave her a slight nod and a smile then turned away and gave her attention to an older man in a beat-up cowboy hat leaning against the counter further down. Hey, Elijah, you headed home soon?

Soon as I’m done settlin’ up with Claude here. Why? Whatcha need, Patsy?

Patsy nodded toward Merrilee. This lady needs a ride out to the Wescott place.

The man stuffed a wad of chewing tobacco between his cheek and gum, shoved the container in the front pocket of his trousers then doffed his hat to reveal a head full of silver hair. He smiled, making his impressive horseshoe mustache lift, as he worried the brim of his hat with his fingers. It would be my pleasure, ma’am. He replaced his hat then approached her, his hand outstretched. Elijah Buckley. My wife and I own the Lazy B just west of Eternal Hope, the Wescott’s ranch.

Merrilee grasped his work-roughened hand and introduced herself while she shook it. Thank you so much, Mr. Buckley. I appreciate your kindness and your help. I have a trunk outside. Will you have room in your wagon?

Yes, ma’am. I got plenty o’ room. He gestured over his shoulder to the sacks of flour, coffee, and sugar as well as paper-wrapped packages on the counter. I’m almost through here. He reached for her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. Claude, I’ll be back in a minute. I’m gonna get Miss O’Shea settled.

With those words, Merrilee found herself escorted from the general store and settled on the seat of his buckboard, her cloth portmanteau clutched in her arms while she cursed herself for a fool several times over.

Mr. Buckley seemed friendly enough and she was grateful to him, but she suddenly found herself unsure. Again.

She’d gone through so many chances in the past couple of years, her confidence was shaken. She’d always been the kind of woman who planned ahead, who organized and scheduled, and took great pride in her self-sufficiency, but now? Those abilities seemed to have deserted her. If she’d been thinking properly when she set out on this journey, she would have arranged for Reece to meet her here, instead of relying on the kindness of a stranger.

She watched Elijah, with the help of Claude, load up the wagon then climb into the seat beside her. You ready, ma’am?

She nodded, and he snapped the reins, setting the buckboard in motion. They headed west on a dirt road that seemed to twist and turn upon itself, leaving the small town of Possibility behind in a plume of dust. He handled the reins well and for the most part, managed to avoid most of the ruts and deep holes in the road, while he kept up a steady stream of chatter, none of which seemed to require responses. Yes, he asked questions, but then kept right on talking, whether she responded or not, and not once did he ask why she was heading out to Eternal Hope. It was just as well. She wouldn’t have announced she was there to marry Reece Wescott, a man she’d never met, even if he had.

Since their conversation, if she could call it that, was one-sided at best, Merrilee filled her mind with the images she saw, surprised by the abundance of trees as well as the greenness of the countryside. Blue flowers carpeted the landscape as well. She hadn’t expected that. She wasn’t exactly sure what she expected. For some reason, she imagined drier conditions, an arid desert, but she was glad to see she was wrong.

Elijah snapped the reins once more and turned the wagon to pass between open wrought iron gates beneath an archway with a large letter W in the middle. The drive dipped several times and Merrilee grasped the rail with her free hand to keep her seat. Sorry about that, ma’am. Shoulda warned ya to hold on. He said nothing more, growing silent for the first time since they began their journey, his concentration now on keeping the wagon wheels out of the deep gouges and grooves dug into the dirt.

Trees extended into the distance from both sides of the road such as it was, their branches sometimes hanging over the drive, shading their progress. Pecan trees, if she wasn’t mistaken, as well as evergreens. Did Reece like pecan pie? She had a wonderful recipe in the cookbook she’d packed in her trunk.

She didn’t have time to ponder the question or the answer as Elijah drove them through a small stream. It wasn’t deep, just up to the axle of the wagon wheels, but it was wide, and water splashed up from the horses to get her wet. Merrilee pulled the handkerchief tucked into her sleeve at the wrist and dabbed at her face. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of white through the trees before Elijah rounded a bend in the drive. The trees cleared to reveal a two-story house with a wraparound porch and a dilapidated barn. Both looked like they’d been abandoned for years, the air of neglect nearly palpable. Is this the Wescott place?

Yes, ma’am. He sawed on the reins and brought the wagon to a halt in front of the house.

Oh. Merrilee swallowed, the threat of tears imminent once again. If she was disappointed with the town, she was even more so with Eternal Hope ranch. Again, Reece had exaggerated. This wasn’t the grand mansion he had described in his letters, not by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe it had once been, but certainly not now. Badly in need of a coat of paint as well as some loving care, the two-story structure rose from the tangled brush of what she assumed was once a flower garden but was now nothing more than weeds and the bare branches of several bushes. She recognized them as roses, just like the ones she’d had in the front of the home she shared with Donal.

Oh, Donal, why did you have to die?

The porch roof sagged, as did the steps leading up to it. A window shutter, instead of being beside the window, lay propped against the outside of the house. Another shutter was missing entirely. The one redeeming quality she could see as her gaze swept over the house was a spot between the house and barn that boasted an abundance of fruit trees and a vegetable garden behind a white picket fence. A black and white cow rooted among the growing plants, green leaves protruding from the side of her mouth before they disappeared.

She drew in her breath, determined not to cry for the seventh time today, and focused on the barn. It, too, had been left to fall apart. One door hung cockeyed from the doorframe and several planks were missing from the side she could see. It looked like a good wind could knock it to its foundation. In front of the building, chickens pecked the ground, looking for sustenance, their henhouse off to the side of the barn. There were several corrals as well, but only two horses. A calico cat sauntered from the barn and leapt up to the top rail of the fence, her feet sure as she made her way to one of the horses. They touched noses for a moment before the cat continued her journey.

Elijah jumped from his seat then came around to help her down.

Thank you. Merrilee straightened her gown, attempting once again to wipe the dust from the fabric, but gave up quickly and walked along the path toward the house. She stepped up to the porch, noticing how the second wooden riser dipped, bowed, and creaked beneath her weight though she wasn’t a heavy woman. If the truth were told, she was much too thin. Months of trying to stay one step ahead of her brother-in-law had made it difficult to eat.

Elijah brought her trunk up to the porch and placed it beside the door. Doesn’t look like anyone’s home. They’re probably out moving cattle. I ‘spect they’ll be back shortly. He cast a side glance at her. Will you be all right waiting? I can bring ya over to the Lazy B. Sarah, my wife, would love to have the company.

Thank you for the offer, but I should probably stay right here. I’ll be fine though.

Again, he looked in her direction, his glance full of questions. I hate to ask, but were ya expected? Seems to me, one of the Wescott boys shoulda been in town to meet ya, if’n ya were.

She nodded as she switched her portmanteau from one hand to the other. Yes, I’m expected. We just didn’t know the exact day.

He hesitated as his gaze swept over her again and then he nodded and touched the brim of his hat with the tips of his fingers. Well then, I should be gettin’ home. Come on over once you’re settled. Sarah would love to meet ya.

Thank you, Mr. Buckley. I’ll be sure to do that.

Merrilee leaned against one of the posts supporting the porch roof and watched Mr. Buckley drive away in a cloud of dust until he disappeared from view. She gazed into the distance. The sun would be setting in a few short hours. She hoped Mr. Buckley was correct in thinking the Wescotts were simply out moving cattle and would come home soon. She’d hate to be still standing outside when darkness fell, though that was still a few hours away.

She dusted off a chair and took a seat but got up after a moment or two. She’d never been the kind of woman who sat and did nothing. Even reading, which she enjoyed, didn’t keep her still for very long. Though tired from her journey, energy bustled through her. Hunger, too. Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since last night. She’d dearly love a cup of coffee but wouldn’t go in the house without invitation. She’d have to make do with water from the pump at the edge of the vegetable garden.

After quenching her thirst, she wandered back to the porch, but never made it to the steps. Instead, she tugged at a weed in the flower garden. And another. And another until she heard the unmistakable sound of horse’s hooves and looked up to see two men ride into the barnyard. She pulled one more weed from around the trunk of a rosebush then straightened. After brushing dirt off her hands, she hid them behind her back as one of the men tugged on the reins and trotted toward her.

Was this Reece Wescott?

Well, hello, little lady. How can I help you? He slid from the saddle and landed on his feet, his boots sending up puffs of dust before he moved a little closer to her. He removed his hat and grinned. A dimple formed in his cheek. Ain’t too often we get company out here. Even longer since we had anyone as pretty as you.

Merrilee dusted off her hands again and extended one. So strange to be greeting one’s future husband with a handshake. I’m Merrilee O’Shea. She’d hoped for some recognition when she said her name, but there was none on his face and she wished she knew what Reece looked like. She didn’t even know his hair or eye color, which would have made things a little less awkward. All she knew were the words he had written her which were that he’d been considered handsome. This man certainly fit the bill, at least in her opinion. Are you Reece Wescott?

No, ma’am. Gabriel Wescott at your service. He smiled wider, the dimple in his cheek becoming deeper.

Nice to meet you. She nodded in his direction then looked beyond him to the other man who had ridden into the barnyard. He dismounted in front of the barn and walked toward them, the big, black horse following at a leisurely pace.

Merrilee watched him as he came closer, her gaze at once drawn to his long legs, broad shoulders, and finally, his face as he removed his hat. She sucked in her breath.

Reece Wescott had to be the handsomest man she’d ever seen. Both men were tall and lean, but muscular, most likely due to the work they did on the ranch, but that’s where the similarities ended. Gabriel’s hair was the color of wheat, and his eyes were hazel with flecks of green and gold while Reece had a head full of thick, black hair and green eyes so brilliant, they were startling. The other difference she noted quickly was that Gabriel smiled while Reece frowned, drawing the thick slashes of his dark brows low, the left one bearing a small scar which bisected it in half. He looked like every pirate she’d ever read about. Is he Reece?

That tall drink o’ water? No, ma’am, that’s my brother, Jared.

Oh.

Jared, this is Merrilee O’Shea. He performed the introduction when he stopped in front of her. She’s looking for Reece.

He didn’t offer a greeting. Instead, he looked her up and down, his gaze raking her from head to toe and back again before settling on her face. What do you want with him? The bisected eyebrow rose. Did he do that to make himself more intimidating? It wasn’t necessary. He was menacing enough. You in the family way?

Merrilee flinched and returned his glare even though her cheeks were on fire from such a bluntly asked question. Who was this man to speak to her so? I beg your pardon, Mr. Wescott, I most certainly am not. Reece and I are to be married.

Married! Jared scoffed and slapped at his thigh with his hat. I highly doubt that. Reece wasn’t the marrying kind. He was more the love ’em and leave ’em kind. His tone, as well as his statement, was beyond rude. Both were offensive.

She strode up the walkway then the porch steps, grabbed her draw-string purse from the chair where she’d left it, and withdrew the missive from within its confines. But I have this letter. Her hands trembled as she removed the letter from the envelope, the sudden rush of frustrated tears in her eyes making her vision blurry as she returned to the bottom step and held it out. We were to be married as soon as I arrived in Possibility.

Jared refused to take it. Instead, Gabriel took it from her hand. He unfolded the stark white paper with the big black W at the top and read the letter.

After a moment, he glanced at his brother. It’s Reece’s handwriting all right. He shrugged. He did offer marriage.

Well, hell! Jared cussed. Three weeks after we put him in the ground, and I’m cleaning up Reece’s mess again. Damn him.

Excuse me, but what does that mean―put him in the ground?

He’s dead. Jared replied with a bluntness that shocked her. And apparently, shocked Gabriel as well, if the look he gave his brother was any indication.

Dead? The word reverberated through her head and her knees grew weak. The world around her seemed to darken and a hum filled her ears, like she’d walked into a swarm of hornets.

He can’t be dead. He can’t be.

Died three weeks ago doing something stupid. Jared explained with just as much candor, his voice harsh with unrestrained disgust.

Merrilee swayed, the news of Reece’s death too much after everything she’d been through, the hopes and dreams she’d harbored for a better life dashed by a few words so cruelly spoken.

But she wouldn’t faint. Not in front of him. Pride more than anything else made her refuse to show weakness to the man who’d been so rude. Merrilee shook herself to clear her head then took a deep breath and pinned him with a glare. What am I to do? I came here based on a promise. In writing. She swallowed against the constriction in her throat. I have nowhere to go.

Nowhere? Jared shot back. What about back where you came from?

Merrilee squared her shoulders, her gaze never leaving him. That isn’t possible. I refuse to go back there.

That’s not necessary. Gabriel stepped between them, effectively blocking Jared from her sight and she turned her attention to him. You can stay here for as long as you need or want. Do you cook?

She nodded in response.

Can you clean and do laundry?

Once again, she nodded. Of course. I also garden, sew, knit, read and write and I have experience taking care of those who are ill.

She moved slightly and once more, stared directly at Jared. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she mimicked the action though what she really wanted to do was take a step back. His green eyes were icy. Forbidding. And angry. So very angry. They glistened like shards of emeralds caught in the sunlight.

Let her stay, Jared. What harm could it do? Gabriel turned toward her and smiled, though his comments were definitely for Jared. "Besides, we really need a housekeeper and someone to cook for us. If I have to have another bowl of