Mail Order Bride and Her Outlaw (#2, Brides of Montana Western Romance) (A Historical Romance Book): Brides of Montana Western Romance, #2

By Leah Laurens

Loving an outlaw isn't easy... but it sure is fun!

Carrie Ackerman is on a quest for vengeance.

Her older sister stole her fiancé, and Carrie plans to get even.

But Carrie's broke.

All her family's money went to save their farm.

Carrie needs a ticket to Montana, even if she must become a mail order bride to get it.

The bandits who robbed her stagecoach are evil!

Villains!

Scoundrels all!

But one of them has eyes like a stormy sea and a smile that could charm the devil out of her.

She can't take her eyes off Fred Connor, even if he is an outlaw.

When the robbery goes wrong, only Fred can save her. But does he want to?

She was supposed to be a mail order bride, not the wife of an outlaw.

Every time Fred looks at her, Carrie feels something build inside her. She doesn't think she can resist him.

There's a judge who wants to see Fred hang for a murder he says he didn't commit.

Carrie knows he wants her, but can she trust him?

Can love keep them together when everything else is driving them apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leah Laurens
• Release date: Feb 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393160472

Leah Laurens

Leah Laurens is a multi-voiced writer who always been a lover of historical romance novels since young, especially that of Western Romance. A romance set in the American West, Leah’s novels involve characters that are strong in character, each with a strong personality and with different pursuits in life. The Hero has his own adventures in life that he wants to pursue, the Heroine learning to survive and conquer the harsh challenges sometimes. Despite the many differences, there is somehow a destiny the hero and heroine must fulfil by meeting each other and to fall in love.  Through Leah’s writings, she hopes to inspire many who are waiting, questioning about love in a sometimes cynical world. That there will always be that silver linings in the clouds which one sees in their life. Some of Leah’s inspirations came from authors like Linda Lael Miller, Harper Sloan.

Book preview

prologue

*   *   *

Valley Glen, Indiana,

1880

Carrie Ackerman could not find her sister. 

Have you seen Sarah this morning? she asked her eldest brother, Tom, after knocking on his door and opening it a crack so she might peek in.

Tom said nothing, pretending he was still asleep. He had been doing that ever since his accident. The doctor continued to insist that he would walk again, that it would only take a bit of time, but Tom's mood expressed the opinion that he did not believe a word the doctor said.

Carrie sighed and went into his room. Their other brother, Henry, was already out in the field. He was younger than Tom by five years, but since the plow had overturned and sliced Tom's leg open, Henry had taken on all of Tom's chores. The field was the most important. Her family was counting on their crop this season to bring in enough money to pay off their debts.

Carrie was the only one not fooled by that. The bank would not wait for their crop to come in. They had already extended as much time as they cared to. There was nothing more to be done. Within weeks, she, her infant niece, and her four siblings would be turned out of the home they had built for themselves. Banished from the land their parents had owned long before the fire took their lives.

She kicked at the foot of Tom's bed. He groaned.

What? he asked, irritated.

Have you seen Sarah this morning? she repeated, ignoring his tone. Tom was always irritated these days.

No, Tom said and rolled over.

She wished Tom would take after Sarah a bit more. Sarah had been injured in the same accident, saving both Tom's life and Carrie's own, yet she did not sulk. She had pushed forward. Carrie still had a difficult time looking at her eldest sister, knowing that it was largely because of her that Sarah's arm was now lame. Sarah's attempts to ease Carrie's conscience on the matter had failed.

If not for Sarah, the blade of the plow would surely have sliced Carrie's head clean off. The doctor said that Sarah would never regain the use of her arm. The blade had sliced it too deeply, severing her nerves. She could move it and her fingers, but just barely. Sarah was just grateful it had not taken her arm off completely but Carrie knew better. Sarah was already twenty-six and without a husband. What man would want her now? She feared her eldest sister would forever remain a maid.

Carrie sighed and left Tom to himself. Harriet was still sleeping in the room she shared with her sisters. The dawn light had barely risen. Issie, Harriet's daughter, lay asleep in the crib that Henry had made for her. Henry was especially fond of his twin sister's child, who was not even a year old. He had already made her a plethora of wooden toy sets that she could not yet use. They all felt protective of the babe that would never know her father. Smallpox was a terrible thing.

Harriet and Henry were the middle siblings. Harriet had taken over most of Sarah's chores after the accident, despite having a new child to care for. Carrie was the only one who had not done more. She had tried to help her family, offering to watch Issie for Harriet whenever she was in the kitchen. She had even made an attempt at helping Henry in the field, but it had not gone well. She had made several mistakes and put him behind a day's work. He had told her to stay in the house after that.

Knowing how much her siblings had sacrificed compared to herself had eaten away at Carrie until she had finally come to a decision. Their neighbor's daughter had become a mail order bride. It had been scandalous at the time but had since worked out for the girl. Carrie had sorted through several ads for brides until she'd found the one she wanted. A rich man. A banker. He was willing to pay a large amount for the contract. She had readily agreed and had only three days left before she was to leave Valley Glen forever.

It was unfortunate that Sarah had discovered her plans last night. Their argument was still fresh in Carrie’s mind. It made her head ache but there was nothing Sarah could do. The bride token from the banker was the only way to save their farm.

Carrie slipped quietly back into the room she shared with her sisters and put on her boots before going out to the field. Perhaps Henry had seen Sarah. Streaks of daylight were finally beginning to light in the sky. She laced up her boots and noticed a slip of tri-folded paper lying upon the floor. It must have fallen from the dresser. Her name was scrawled across it.

She bent to retrieve it, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Dearest Sister,

Please forgive me. I cannot let you marry a man you do not know. The bride token money will save our land, but as the eldest, it is my sacrifice to make, not yours. Considering my limitations, you are more useful on the farm than me. Please explain to Tom and the others. I shall send word when I arrive in Helena. If all goes well, I shall be Mrs. John Bowman by the end of the week.

Your Loving Sister,

Sarah Ackerman

Oh! Carrie cried, so angry that she crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it against the wall. Oh!

Harriet's head rose from the bed.

Carrie? she mumbled, still groggy. What's wrong?

That sister of ours! She tries me like no one else!

Carrie opened the dresser she shared with both Sarah and Harriet. The letters she'd exchanged with John Bowman were gone, as was the train ticket he'd sent her.

She cannot do this! Carrie cried. That is my ticket! It does not even leave for days yet.

What ticket? Harriet asked, more alert now. What are you talking about? She pushed her bed covers back and stretched. Issie made a small mewing noise from her crib, and Carrie felt instantly guilty for waking her. There was no squelching her anger, though.

Carrie, whatever is the matter with you? Harriet asked, opening the shutters and going to her child. She lifted Issie into her arms and began to rock her. Your face has gone all red.

Sarah has gone too far, Carrie explained, taking hold of her bonnet and setting it on her head. She has taken my ticket.

Harriet looked at her sister without comprehension. Carrie knew she was not making sense. Harriet had no idea of her intentions to marry or her plans to leave Valley Glen.

I shall not let her get away with this.

Get away with what? Do clarify yourself, for right now you are making my head dizzy.

Fortunately, Issie selected that moment to do as infants do, and Harriet had to quickly clean her mess. Carrie hurried from their room before Harriet could finish and question her further.

The train station was bustling when Carrie arrived. She walked along the platform, attempting to see inside all the windows on the train. She was certain Sarah was sitting behind one of them. John Bowman had sent a first-class ticket.

She ran right into a conductor who was patrolling the platform. Beg your pardon, Carrie quickly said. Do you know if Sarah Ackerman is on this train?

The conductor smiled indulgently. There are many people on this train, miss. I should be quite fortunate if I had memory enough for all their names.

Carrie smiled politely back at him. Yes, of course. What I mean is... She thought hard, biting her lower lip. If I had a ticket for a train leaving three days from now, might I be able to exchange it for one leaving today?

You might, the conductor said. I believe we had one woman earlier today who did that very thing. You want to inquire at the—

"What do you mean? Carrie squealed. Do you mean to say that anyone can just exchange a ticket anytime they please?"

The conductor blinked at her, uncertainty on his face. Miss, I'm not—

Do you not question people upon these matters? Why might anyone wish to exchange a ticket like that? What if it is not their ticket to exchange? Her hands were set firmly on her hips and she leaned toward the conductor, who shrank away from her.

If there is a problem, miss, he attempted to say, then you might wish to take it up with—

I want to take it up with you! Carrie said, going a bit too far and poking her finger toward the conductor's chest.

The train whistle suddenly blew and the conductor looked relieved. All boarding! he called, turning away from Carrie. He hurried toward one of the entrances and Carrie watched him climb on. Her eyes lit upon a window. Behind it was a form she knew well.

Sarah! she yelled.

The woman was clearly trying to hide. She shrank into her seat, her head turned away, but Carrie would have known that profile anywhere.

Sarah! she called again.

The train began to stir. Steamed poured out from its engines. Carrie attempted to get on board. The conductor she had been yelling at stopped her.

Do you have a ticket, miss? he asked.

Yes, she said. He held out his hand for it. Carrie frowned. Well, no. It's not on my person. I... my sister has it.

I see. And where is your sister?

The steam whistle blew, making Carrie jump.

She is on the train, sir. I saw her just now, sitting by a window.

And she has your ticket?

Yes. Well, no. You see, she must have used my ticket for herself. I assume it is gone now.

I understand, the conductor said, looking relieved, but without a ticket, I'm afraid I can't let you on board.

"That is ridiculous. It is my ticket."

Last call! the conductor yelled, ignoring her.

Sir, you don't understand.

Sorry, miss. If you find your ticket later, you might still trade it in. Check with the ticketing window. He shut Carrie out as the wheels began to churn. She stepped back and watched the train pull away.

She shall not get away with this, Carrie muttered to herself. She cannot steal my plan and my ticket all in one day. I shall find her and put a stop to this.

*   *   *

chapter 1

*   *   *

Carrie got off the stagecoach when it stopped stretched her legs. She wasn't sure how far from Helena they were at the moemnt, but suspected it was still a few hundred miles off.

For the last few days, she had busied herself in conversation with the older woman she had been riding with. She was on her way to visit her daughter, who had just given birth to twins. The story had warmed Carrie’s heart, making her think of Henry and Harriet, her own twin siblings. That woman departed now, however, and two new passengers approached. They were both men. Carrie did not much care for the idea of being the only woman on the journey but the men approaching looked suitable enough.

Slight detour coming up, miss, the driver said. He was a short man with brown hair as thin as it was long.

Oh? she asked.

There was a storm come through here a few nights ago. Road's all blocked up. Not to worry, this was our last stop and I know a shortcut. He smiled at her and went to inform the new riders of their route change.

Carrie gave a final stretch and turned back to the stagecoach, resentful of the fact that her new husband-to-be had not been rich enough to afford a train ticket. She had planned on sitting in luxury on her way to Montana, not bouncing about a cramped sitting area like a piece of meat in a picnic basket. It had already taken her far too much time to begin her journey, though. Had she held out for a train ticket, it might never have come. She would still be in Valley Glen, waiting.

The money Sarah had sent from Montana had all gone to their debtors. The fact that Sarah had sent it at all indicated that she was married to Mr. Bowman. The release of their debt from the bank had not softened the betrayal Carrie still felt from her sister. She had vowed to seek Sarah out and make her answer for her deeds.

Allow me, miss, one of the new passengers said, offering Carrie his hand. She took it gratefully and stepped up into the coach.

Thank you.

He smiled politely and tipped his hat to her. He was an older man, closer to Tom's age than her own. Perhaps thirty? There was a shine in his eye that she rather liked, but also a shrewdness that bespoke his life experience. She could tell that he had seen and done many things.

A second man of perhaps forty-five was seated next to her in the coach. The hair upon his head was sparse, and he wore round spectacles that made his eyes seem too large for his head, but he had a kind manner and Carrie was pleased to be seated next to him. She felt herself relax as the coach started up again.

Jake Bedielson, the man beside her said, introducing himself.

Carrie Ackerman, she replied, offering her hand.

The man who had helped her into the coach was seated opposite her. His appearance was so drastically different from Mr. Bedielson's that she wondered if the man beside her might be jealous. It was not that the man was particularly handsome, but he had an air of authority about him that Mr. Bedielson could only dream of.

Judge Theodore Foster, at your service, miss, he said, taking Carrie's hand as well.

Judge? she asked. How interesting. She was excited to be riding with a judge. He must have many stories to tell, which would make the long ride more bearable. You look rather young to be a judge.

And you look rather young to be riding unaccompanied in a stagecoach.

The hair on Carrie's neck prickled. I am eighteen, she said, her head held high. I have as much right to travel as anyone.

Certainly, miss, certainly. Forgive me, I meant nothing by it.

Carrie nodded, relaxing her shoulders. She did not enjoy being teased, but it was still a long way to their destination and she did not wish to argue the whole time. Are you going all the way to Helena, Mr. Foster?

Yes, Miss Ackerman. I have business there.

Oh, how interesting. Does your work often give you leave to travel?

No, Judge Foster said, and no more. His eyes clouded, and he turned away from her.

Carrie's lips thinned. She had hoped for some lively conversation but saw now that she would get very little out of the stolid man before her. She turned her attention to Mr. Bedielson, who was already snoring. His head sank toward his shoulder, bobbing up and down with each bump in their path. Carrie sighed and resumed looking out her window.

The land around them was still dry, but not like Valley Glen. The farmland she had grown up with had dried up like a prune when the rains had stopped. She knew it could not be as bad as the deserts in the west but it was bad enough to force the farmers from their land. The morning air had not been filled with dew for the last year. It made her skin itch and flake. Even the cold winter months had seemed dry, despite the fall of snow wetting everything down. The Ackermans would not be the first family to lose their land to a bank. She found it ironic that their own path to salvation was Sarah's marriage to a rich banker, the very type of man she had come to despise.

She had known they were no longer in her home state when things had begun to look green. Dark umber bark and lush green tree tops punctuated the land. The change was slow at first. A single tree in a vast plain of nothingness. Then the trees came in clumps. Finally, great forests surrounded them on all sides. Carrie could not help but smile. The air was thick with moisture. She could feel it on her tongue. Her skin drank it in, thanking her.

She absently twirled one finger around a stray blond lock that had come loose and caught Judge Foster looking at her.

Have you ever been to Montana before, Miss Ackerman? he asked.

She brightened at this spark in conversation.

No, she replied. It is my first time traveling by coach... or anything else.

I see.

He was still staring. She bit her bottom lip, studying his face as he studied hers. He'd had a hard life; she could see that in his eyes. There was a darkness beneath the piercing blue that struck her as cold and hard. She did not care for the way he was watching her, as though she were a painting on a wall instead of a person.

Forgive me, he said, noting her frown. I know I am staring. It is just that you look so very much like my wife when she was your age. We grew up together, she and I. I've known her since childhood.

Oh, Carrie said, relaxing at the mention of his wife. Mr. Bedielson let out a loud snore. She and Judge Foster exchanged grins. Your wife sounds lovely. How sweet it is to hear that your love for her has not faded with time. Is she to join you in Helena?

The grin fell off Judge Foster's face as quickly as it had arrived. No. She is dead these many months.

Carrie's neck stiffened. I'm sorry to hear that. She had much experience with death, having lost both her parents at the age of six. Carrie thought that a change of subject might suit them both but now that the judge had begun to speak, he did not seem to want to stop.

She was murdered by a man I shall see hanged. I am on my way to Montana to find him.

Find? Has he not already been captured?

He's escaped justice more than once, I fear. But his own men betray him now.

His men?

His band of lawbreakers. They robbed a bank in Helena not long ago. Three of the four were captured. My wife's murderer was the only man to escape. His lips thinned. She could hear the hatred in his every word. It dripped from his voice like spilled milk. I mean to find him and bring him to justice.

Carrie's heart raced. She leaned her head out of the carriage, allowing the fresh air to catch ahold of her and still her emotions. She could not imagine losing someone she cared for in such a manner. The