A kick to her ribs stopped Noelle in her tracks. She braced her shoulder against the wall to her right and breathed through the pain, her eyes squeezed shut.
“End of the line!”
The stagecoach driver’s shout drew her eyes open. She straightened as he jumped down from the stagecoach and headed for the horses as the other passengers started grumbling. The driver pointed to the road when their complaints grew louder. “We can’t go any further. Not today.”
The road was covered in a deep layer of snow. It was a miracle they’d made it this far. Wherever this was. She’d lost track of the towns along the way and knew nothing other than she was somewhere in Montana.
The town looked like most did. Rows of buildings and people everywhere, despite the snow, which was falling to add to what was already on the ground.
Those who had been on the stagecoach with her started to head deeper into town. She watched them go with a foreboding sense of dread. What was she to do now?
Another kick to her ribs pulled a gasp from her throat. She clutched her stomach and breathed through the pain. When she opened her eyes, a man walking toward her slowed.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Noelle stared at him when he stopped and realized her tongue suddenly wouldn’t work. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She’d heard of the rugged cowboys who lived out west but had yet to see one. Now she did. This man was no doubt a prime example of what all those giggling girls on the wagon train she had been on from back east were talking about. He was tall and strongly built, with the brightest green eyes she’d ever seen. He was handsome, with a light dusting of stubble on his chin, and staring at her as if waiting for something. When he glanced at her stomach, she remembered he’d asked her a question. She straightened and dropped her arm from where she’d been holding her belly. “Yes,” she finally replied.
He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t really believe her. She laid her hand on her stomach again and said, “He likes to do flips early in the morning.”
The man smiled, a dimple gracing his left cheek. Bright green eyes and a dimple. The man was too darn handsome for his own good.
Noelle offered him a tiny smile in return and pulled her cloak tighter. “I’m quite all right,” she said. His gaze flitted across her face, landing on her lips for a brief moment before rising back to her eyes. “It’s too cold to be out here in your condition. Would you like an escort?”
Chiverly. It was alive and well even this far west. Butterflies started dancing in her stomach for no reason whatsoever, and she blamed it on the baby rather than the man in front of her. She shook her head and said, “No, I’m fine, but thank you for the offer.”
“All right then,” he said, before lifting his hand to tip the front of his hat at her. “Get out of the snow. I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon.”
She looked up at the sky. Thick clouds hung in the air, the snow falling heavier than when she got off the stagecoach. “No, I don’t think so either.” She met his gaze and said, “Have a good day,” before stepping past him. In an instant, her feet slipped out from under her. Time slowed as she fell, but strong arms wrapped around her before she hit the ground.
“Easy,” the man said. “The sidewalks haven’t been cleaned yet, so they’re slick in places.”
Embarrassment burned her cheeks. Noelle grabbed his arm as he hauled her upright. He smelled good. Firewood and leather, and up close, he was even more mesmerizing to look at. The sound of those around them registered, and a glance over the man’s shoulder revealed the townsfolk. They were watching, staring, and she realized she was standing on the street in the arms of a complete stranger.
He noticed it at the same moment. He took a step back, still holding on to her arms to make sure she was steady, before letting go. ‘Thank you,” she said. “I’m a lot more clumsy as of late.”
That dimple in his cheek reappeared when he smiled at her. “It would seem so.” He ran a hand over his bristled jaw before saying, “Are you sure you don’t need an escort to wherever it is you’re going?”
Noelle righted her cloak and said, “I’m sure, but again, thank you for the offer.” They stared at one another for a long moment before she turned and, with careful steps, walked away. She’d taken half a dozen before looking over her shoulder to see the man step into a building at the end of the street. “Livery” was painted on a shingle that hung by the door. The baby kicked again, hard enough to take her breath, and she gasped before laying a hand to her belly. “Easy there, little one,” she whispered, rubbing circles around her stomach. “It’s too early in the morning to be this fussy.”
She closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh, clean mountain air. As cold as Montana was, the briskness agreed with her. It might have been due to the sudden hot flashes she’d been experiencing. She felt as if she could melt at random times, and now was one of them. She wiped her brow and watched a wagon struggle down the street, its rickety wheels squeaking as it headed back into the wooded landscape that surrounded the town.
From what she could tell, this little town was a bustling community of more people than she’d seen in some time. The streets were muddy, the churned snow black with deep ruts where the sludge melted and refroze. The wind was brisk, and large snow flakes whirled through the air. She pulled the hood of her cloak tighter around her face to ward off most of it.
Of all the places she’d found herself in, this was by far the most appealing. Not that it mattered. This was the end of the line for her. The few coins she had left were rolling around in her pocket and weren’t even enough for a decent meal, let alone a warm place to lay her head. The stranger’s offer to escort her to wherever she was going was denied for one simple reason. She had nowhere to go.
The despair she’d finally rid herself of weighed down on her all of a sudden, and as she watched those around her go about their day, tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked them away, whispering, “Crying does nothing to solve your problems, Noelle.” She’d learned over the last several months that crying was a worthless endeavor. Her last breakdown caused such a ruckus that she’d nearly been left behind, and she’d not make the same mistake again. Tears were nothing but trouble, and she was in enough without the added emotion.
A chill wind pulled at her cloak, the scent of chimney smoke trailing it. She searched the street for shelter. Glowing lights at the end of the road caught her eye. A look above the building told her it was the Mercantile. She’d been in many on her way out west and knew she’d find warmth there.
The sidewalk was indeed slippery, but she managed to make it to the mercantile without falling. A potbelly stove sat in the middle of the building, and heat blazed from inside. She hurried to it and held out her hands, warming them as she looked around the store. It looked the same as any other she’d seen, only this one wasn’t full of people. With a town this size, she’d expected more. It’s probably the weather.
A circle of chairs ringed the stove. She sat in the one closest to her and blew out a tired breath. Her eyes closed, the past few months flashing behind her eyelids like moving pictures. How had she ended up in such a mess? Because you’re impetuous and never listen. The thought, and the sound of a ringing bell, brought her eyes open.
“Good gracious, we’re in for a doozy of a storm this evening!”
The woman who spoke slammed the door behind her and brushed snow from her cloak. Her cheeks were red, and a few gray strands of hair were peeking out from her hood.
“Hey, Millie.” A clerk behind the counter was smiling at the woman when Noelle looked her way. “What can I do for you?”
“I came looking for that marriage periodical you keep in here.”
The clerk nodded to where she was sitting. Noelle straightened, but neither woman even glanced at her.
“It’s two months old,” the clerk said. “You hunting a husband?”
The woman, Millie, the clerk had called her, laughed. “Not likely.” She crossed the room to where she sat, their eyes meeting for a brief moment, before the woman reached for a stack of papers in a nearby chair. She thumbed through them, then picked one up and left the others lying. Noelle could just make out The Matrimonial Bazaar on the front.
“When do you expect a new one in?” Millie asked.
The clerk shrugged. “Hard to say.” The woman gave her a squint-eyed look. “You’re not trying to find a wife for Cade again, are you?”
Millie’s grin said she was.
“He’s going to skin you alive, Millie.”
“Oh hush,” Millie said. “He needs a wife, and I intend for him to have one.”
Millie laid the periodical back down and turned to the counter. Noelle reached for the discarded magazine the moment she turned her back. She’d run into a few mail-order brides on her journey and wondered what would make a woman marry a complete stranger, one they’d never even seen. Now she knew. It was desperation.
Noelle thumbed through the paper, stopping to read through a few of the ads. Not a single one stood out. Several men lived in Montana, but none seemed suitable. Most appeared to want nothing more than someone to wait on them. To cook and clean and had nothing to offer in return other than providing a roof over her head. Could she live the rest of her life like that? In a loveless marriage just to have a warm place to sleep?
Do you have any choice?
The words brought those ever-present tears back to her eyes. Motion to her right drew her head up. The clerk she’d seen earlier was standing by the stove. The woman smiled at her before nodding at the periodical in her lap. “Looking for a husband?”
Noelle thumbed through a few more pages. “Do people really use these types of ads to find a wife?”
“Oh yes,” the clerk said. “There are over two dozen mail-order brides living in Angel Creek, most of them found using advertisements just like those in that magazine.”
Angel Creek. Well, at least she knew where she was now. She flipped through a few more pages before closing it and laying it back where she’d found it. The bell above the door rang again. She and the clerk looked that way. “Speaking of mail-order brides,” the clerk said with a smile. “Julia Bailey was one of the first to arrive here in Angel Creek.”
Noelle watched the woman head deeper into the store and only looked away when the clerk excused herself. Noelle glanced at the periodical again. Could she marry a man sight unseen?
“New in town?”
The words drew Noelle’s head up again. The woman with graying hair, Millie, was standing near the stove now warming her hands. She had a kind face and smiled as if everything in her world were perfect. The sight only made those tears Noelle had been fighting all morning flood her eyes, and there was no stopping them this time.
She didn’t know how long she cried or how many people were witnesses to her breakdown, but when she lifted her head, no one but the clerk and Millie was there.
Noelle wiped her face dry and sucked in a few deep breaths before looking up. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been fighting that for a while.”
A hand on her back ran in small circles. “How far along are you?”
Noelle laid a hand on her stomach. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think I have much longer.”
The woman nodded. “It doesn’t look like you do. Have you seen a doctor?”
Noelle shook her head. There hadn’t been time while traveling, and when Marshal died…” She pushed the thought away and said, “I’m fine. I’m just overly weepy as of late.”
“That’s to be expected. Hormones and all.” She grinned and leaned back in her chair. “I’m Millie. I’ve not seen you around here before.”
“I just arrived.”
“Alone?”
Noelle nodded, tears once again burning her eyes. She forced them away by closing her eyes. “Yes.”
“The baby’s father?”
She hesitated, then said, “Dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t.
“How long has he been gone?” Millie asked.
She thought back, calculating the time. “Seven months.”
“Bless your heart.” Millie patted her on the arm before wrapping her fingers around her hand. “I know how you must feel. I lost my Steven three winters ago. An avalanche buried him and the loggers he’d been working with. Sudden death kicks the wind right out of ya, don’t it?”
“It does.”
They sat in silence until Noelle’s stomach growled. Embarrassment at its loudness made her face heat up.
“When is the last time you ate?”
She couldn’t even remember. “I’m not sure.”
Lifting her head, that embarrassment grew at the look on Millie’s face. She hated being pitied. She’d seen that look the majority of her life and hoped never to see it again.
“Where are you staying?”
The words, the first street corner I find, were lodged in her throat, but she didn’t utter them. She didn’t need to. One look at her probably told Millie all she needed to know.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bathed or slept in a bed or had on a dress that didn’t smell as if she’d been wearing it through two entire territories. The past seven months had been pure hell, and she knew she probably looked as if she’d been dragged through it and back again.
Millie patted her hand a few times before tilting her head to see her face. Noelle looked and felt all the misery she’d endured clench tight around her heart. Life wasn’t supposed to be this miserable.
Millie glanced at her lap and plucked the Matrimonial Bazaar from her free hand and laid it aside before saying, “Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up and a hot meal inside you.”
Noelle stared up at the stranger who, for reasons she didn’t understand, wanted to help her. She was reluctant to stand but did so out of desperation. Following Mille from the store, she felt as if destiny was about to hand her a new life, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
~*~
Cade knew from the look on Millie’s face that he was going to hate whatever she was there to tell him. She had that gleam in her eyes that always led to trouble, and he knew today was no exception.
He ignored her and continued hammering on the horseshoe he was fashioning, then shoved it into the coals to reheat. When she stepped into the blacksmith shop, he pulled the metal free and hammered it again the moment she opened her mouth to speak. He held back a grin when she propped her hands on her hips and raised one eyebrow at him. As irritating as his sister was at times, she was all he had left.
Setting the horseshow aside, he stepped out from behind the forge and to the door where she stood. A deep inhale of fresh, cool mountain air cleared his head and chased away the irritation he’d felt all morning. “Millie,” he said as a greeting. “What have you done now?”
She scowled. “Why do you always think I’ve done something?”
He laughed. “Because you usually have.” He wiped sweat from his forehead before leaning back against the doorjamb. “Go on then,” he said. “Just spit out whatever it is you’re here to tell me. I have a lot of work to do.”
Millie huffed a breath and scowled before meeting his gaze. “I met someone.”
That was unexpected. Cade straightened. “When?”
“Two days ago.”
“And you’re telling me why exactly? If you’re looking for my blessing, you have it. I’m sure whoever he is will be tortured with or without my approval.”
Millie rolled her eyes. “You are still such a smart mouth. Ma must have whooped you in the head one time too many for smarting off to her, as it seems to have loosened up the part of your brain that makes you sensitive to others’ feelings. She knocked all the sense right out of you.”
He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “She was just mad she couldn’t think up a comeback quick enough.”
“Because we’re too big a brat for anyone to think straight around you.” She waved a hand as if to push the thought away and said, “Anyway, I didn’t meet a man. I met a young woman.”
He raised an eyebrow. It took a few moments for his brain to catch up to the look on Milie’s face, but when it did, he realized this “someone” she was referring to had more to do with him than with her.
“Whatever you’re thinkin’, forget it,” he said, turning to head back to the forge.
“Cade.”
He stopped whatever she was going to say with a raised hand and a stern look. He took up the tongs and grabbed the horseshoe, then grabbed his hammer. Before he could bring it down, she grabbed his arm. “She has no one, Cade. She’s alone and scared and needs a husband.”
He laughed so hard, the people on the street looked into the shop to see what was going on.” He tugged his arm free. “I’m not interested.”
“Cade—”
“No, Millie. Leave me out of whatever scheme you’ve cooked up this time. I’m not interested in a wife.”
“You were two winters ago.”
The words were like ice through his veins. “That was then.”
“Nothing will happen, Cade. Not like last time.”
“Or the time before that?” he added.
“It was just dumb luck, Cade. That’s all.”
“It was an omen. The universe is trying to tell me something, and I’m going to listen.” He stepped away from her and brought the hammer down when she started talking, banging on the horseshoe, trying to drown out her words until she finally left.
She climbed into her sleigh and took hold of the horse’s reins. He should have never made that thing for her, but her risking her life coming up the mountain on horseback had him spending weeks crafting the runners and building the sleigh, with Garrett Carter’s help. She’d been so excited to see it, he’d forgotten the fact she’d come knocking on his door every time she had a hair-brained idea. Today was proof of that.
He watched her head down the street, with only a faint bit of concern for her traveling the road back to Angel Creek alone. Every time she left town, he wanted to see her home, but she had traveled that road so many times alone that she could probably traverse it blindfolded. The moment she was out of sight, her words brought back those ghosts he’d spent the last two years trying to bury.
His dreams of a wife and a family of his own had been dashed by a cruel twist of fate, and he’d not tempt it again. Not even for Millie. He was perfectly content living his life alone. He had good friends he could count on, a job that kept food on his table, and a warm home to go to at night. What more could a man ask for?
He’d brought the hammer down half a dozen times before small snatches of the words Millie had said, the ones he’d been trying to drown out, registered. She’ll be waiting for you at home.
He stilled and looked up, realizing in that moment that Millie hadn’t headed toward Angel Creek. She’d turned right at the end of town and headed to his house. “Dang it, Millie!” He dropped his hammer and ran.