Mitch's Win (Montana Collection, Book 1) Page 2

  Glancing at the four men at the table, she wondered which one would win the hand…and her. It seemed to her that all but one of them were good for nothing. John was disgusting, and even if she wasn’t a “tried” woman, it didn’t take much imagination to know what he’d do with her. Boaz was miserable and drunk. Who knew what he’d do with her? Probably sell her for a good meal and lodging for the night. As for her brother, that sorry excuse for blood could rot for all she cared.

  That left her with only one viable option. The newcomer. Mitch. He seemed to take mercy on her plight. Perhaps if he won her, he might take her under his wing. He struck her as a good man. He’d come for his brother, so he didn’t come here trying to gamble. He tried to pay his brother’s debt off. That meant he was planning to head right back out of here.

  She studied Mitch, trying to determine what kind of man he’d be if she worked for him. Surely, he was married. He was good looking. Dark brown hair with only a bit of stubble on his face announcing he hadn’t shaved since that morning. He had nice blue eyes. By the looks of his cowboy hat, plaid shirt, and denim pants, she judged him to be a rancher. She guessed he was in his mid-twenties. Men that age were usually married unless they were drunken miscreants. No decent woman would marry a man like that. But Mitch didn’t seem to be that type. He looked sober, kind, and—best of all—not greedy. He just might be the answer to her prayers.

  Her mind turned back to the game while Mitch checked the new cards. Oh please let him win! Her stomach was doing flip-flops. John scanned her up and down in a way that made her feel naked. She shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around her body. Boaz was shaking his head as he stared at his cards. His fingers went to the empty shot glass next to him, but there was nothing to drink so he drew his hand back.

  Refusing to look at her brother, she focused on the cards as the men started laying them down on the table. Boaz had a pair of Jacks. Well, Abe had a better hand than that. He had three fives.

  “You’re next,” John told Abe, his eyes narrowed at him.

  Her brother smiled and laid his cards on the table. “Read ‘em and weep.”

  Just as he reached for the pot in the middle of the table, John held his cards up and turned them around, revealing a straight. Heather tried not to give away her dread. She felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of her. She turned her gaze to Mitch. If he couldn’t beat a straight, she didn’t know what she was going to do. Could she run away before John had a chance to get his grimy hands on her?

  John snorted and motioned to Mitch. “Beat that one.”

  For a moment, Heather couldn’t hear a thing. Mitch’s mouth moved as he talked to John, but her head was spinning and there was a strange ringing in her ears. She was going to faint. There was no way Mitch was going to win.

  But then Mitch laid his cards down and John’s smile turned into a scowl. Heart pounding, she leaned forward to get a good look at the cards and cried with relief when she saw Mitch had a royal flush. Her hearing returned, and Boaz thanked Mitch for his help. Her brother slapped the table and swore under his breath.

  John stood up and shrugged. “You got lucky, but next time, don’t count on it.”

  Mitch grimaced. “There won’t be a next time.”

  John grunted but headed up the stairs to the prostitutes’ quarters.

  Heather shivered again. She was spared from the likes of John, thank goodness.

  Mitch stood up and divided up the earnings between himself, Boaz, and her brother. “My advice to both of you,” he told Boaz and Abe, “is to never darken another saloon. Boaz, I’m not bailing you out anymore. I mean it. If you get into trouble again, Ma will just have to deal with the heartache.” He collected his portion of the winnings and headed for the exit.

  Without waiting for her brother to tell her what he was, or wasn’t, going to do with her, she bolted to her feet and followed Mitch. She ignored her brother who called out to her. Knowing him, he’d probably look for a way to “increase” his winnings again.

  “Sir?” she yelled to Mitch as he untied his horse from the post.

  When he glanced in her direction, his eyes grew wide. “Shouldn’t you be running off to your parents or someone else you can trust?”

  “I can’t.” She hurried over to him so no one else would overhear what she had to say. As it was, the stares by the seedy men standing outside the saloon were enough to embarrass her. “Please, don’t go until I’ve explained my case.”

  His eyebrows furrowed and he gave her a good look. “Explained your case for what?”

  “I don’t have anyone I can run to. You see, my brother was supposed to buy me a train ticket to go back East, but I don’t think he’ll take the money you gave him and do that. Our parents died, and I don’t have anyone who can take me in. The nearest kin we got is our aunt in Rhode Island. Our mother was a mail-order bride, and my father…” Realizing she was rambling, she stopped and took a deep breath. He didn’t need to know her whole life story. “Anyway, I can’t go back to my brother.”

  He nodded. “I understand.” Digging into his pocket, he pulled his wallet out, but she stopped him. “Ma’am, I’m offering to buy you that train ticket, not take advantage of you.”

  Her face grew warm. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean that. I knew you wouldn’t take advantage of me. You’re a good man.”

  Looking uncertain, he nodded again. “So what’s the problem? You worry because you can’t pay me back?”

  “No. I… Well, Montana is all I know.”

  “And?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d never been forward with a man before, and she didn’t know how to do it with grace. “I don’t want to leave here.”

  “But you just said you have no kin to live with.”

  “I don’t. I was hoping that maybe I can work for your wife. I promise I won’t get in the way. All I need is a room and board. I can sew my own clothes. I can even help with the meals. I’ll be quiet. You’ll hardly know I’m there.”

  “I’m not married, ma’am.”

  She blinked in surprise. An attractive, good man like him wasn’t married? Well, she certainly wouldn’t mind having a decent and honorable husband. “I can be your wife,” she blurted out before she had time to remind herself that women didn’t propose to men.

  “What?” he asked, his eyes wide in shock.

  “I can be a real good wife. I grew up helping my ma with the running of the house. I know all about cooking, sewing, cleaning… You need it, I can do it. I’ll be agreeable, too. I won’t be one of those wives who bother their husbands about anything. You can do whatever you want, and I won’t raise a fuss.”

  “Uh…”

  “Please?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other and adjusted his hat. “I have two kids I’m raising and a sick mother, so I’m not sure—”

  “I can take care of children! I don’t have experience with them, but I can learn.” The poor man was a widower! If anyone needed a woman to step in and help out, it was a man without a wife and an ailing mother to care for. “I know how to care for sick parents. I took care of mine before they passed away. I can help you.”

  Sighing, he said, “I could use an extra hand out there. Most of my days are spent with the animals. It’d be nice if my mother had help.”

  Encouraged by the direction of his thoughts, she smiled and nodded. He took off his hat and ran his hair through his wavy dark locks. Oh, he was a looker alright! His wife must have fallen in love with him the moment she laid eyes on him.

  He set his hat back on his head. “There aren’t any men who want to marry you?”

  “No. There’s just you if you want me.”

  He hesitated but then shifted from one foot to another. “Alright.”

  It took her a moment to realize he’d agreed to marry her. Relieved, she relaxed and her smiled widened. “Thank you, sir. You won’t be sorry. I promise I’ll be a good wife and mother.”

  “I suspect you will.�
�� He returned her smile and added, “If you’re going to be my wife, I think it’d be best if you called me Mitch instead of ‘sir’.”

  “Of course. Anything you say.”

  He glanced down the vacant business street with its flickering lanterns. “I can’t take you home without marrying you. It wouldn’t be right. The preacher lives four blocks from here.”

  She followed the direction of his gaze. “I hope he won’t mind if we wake him up.”

  “I don’t think he will. I’ll just explain the situation. He’ll understand.”

  That was good. Taking the reins in his hands, he led his horse away from the post and waited for her. Her heartbeat picking up, she joined him. As they strolled down the street, she glanced back at the saloon, grateful Abe hadn’t run out to stop her. With any luck, she would never see her brother again.

  Putting the past behind her, she faced forward and walked with the man who would be a part of her future. She hoped he wasn’t upset with her for being so blunt. If she’d been in any other situation, she would never have acted in such haste.

  The journey to the preacher’s house was quiet. If she could think of something to say, she would. She thought she could ask about his children, like how old they were or what their names were. She could even ask about his mother. What was her illness? But she couldn’t quite figure out how to word these things without seeming nosy. Surely, she had a right to ask them since she was going to be his wife, but she was afraid she’d done too much talking already.

  By the time they made it to the preacher’s house, he tied the horse’s reins to a nearby post and turned to her. “It’s a lot of work you’re asking for. No other woman wants to take it on.”

  “I’m not afraid of work.” He wasn’t going to change his mind about marrying her, was he? Maybe she should have talked more instead of being quiet. Maybe he mistook her silence for reluctance to be his wife.

  “I just want to be sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He studied her for a moment, as if trying to determine her sincerity then nodded. “Alright. I suppose it’s only right that we know each other’s full names. I’m Mitch Grady.”

  “I’m Heather Curtiss.”

  “Heather’s a nice name, and if you don’t mind my saying so, it suits you just fine.”

  “Oh?”

  With a shrug, he offered her a shy smile and said, “You’re pretty.”

  Her face warmed with pleasure. “Oh. Well, thank you.”

  He cleared his throat and motioned to the front door of the preacher’s house. “We’re here.”

  She smiled and joined him as he headed for the door. No man had ever called her pretty before. Granted, she never had a man court her. She’d spent so much time tending to her parents that she didn’t go to church or meet many people. She had a friend who brought over necessities for her and her parents, and that was about as much interaction as she’d had with people. She thought going back East would help her find a husband, but if she could find one here, then it was better than she could ever hope for.

  He knocked on the front door, and she clasped her hands together, patiently waiting beside him until a man in his forties opened the door. The preacher blinked in surprise. “Mitch?”

  “Sorry to bother you, Preacher Higgins, but Heather and I were wondering if you’d be willing to marry us,” Mitch said.

  Preacher Higgins glanced at Heather before he opened the door all the way and gestured for them to come into the house. “Good evening, ma’am. Come on in and make yourself at home.”

  Heather thanked him and stepped through the doorway. Mitch followed her into the house, and they went into the parlor. Turning to Mitch, she waited while the preacher lit the kerosene lamp and set it on the small table.

  “I didn’t realize you were courting, Mitch,” the preacher said as he turned to them.

  “Well, I wasn’t. Boaz was at the saloon again.” The preacher offered a sympathetic nod, and Mitch continued, “Heather here happened to be at the same poker table, and her brother was offering her as part of the bet.”

  She shifted her gaze so she wouldn’t have to see the look on the preacher’s face. It was humiliating enough to know what her brother did.

  “Since she has nowhere to go and I could use a good woman to help me with the kids and my mother, we hoped you’d marry us,” Mitch finished.

  “Of course, I will. I’ll get my wife to witness the wedding.”

  As he left the parlor, Heather released her breath and looked at Mitch who offered her an encouraging smile. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. It’s that fool brother of yours who needs to be ashamed.”

  They waited in an awkward silence before the preacher returned with his wife who was tying the straps on her robe. She went over to the kerosene lamp and adjusted the wick, making the room brighter. “It’s about time you got married, Mitch.”

  Wondering what she meant by that, Heather glanced at her husband-to-be. From the way the woman said it, it sounded like he hadn’t been married. If he’d been married before, wouldn’t she say something like, It’s about time you got married again?

  “Don’t give him a hard time,” the preacher playfully admonished his wife. “It’s not from lack of trying.”

  “Foolish women,” she muttered as she turned to Heather. Her smile grew wide. “You’re just the thing this poor boy needs. He’s taken on too much. I was beginning to wonder when he’d start reaping what he’s been sowing.”

  Heather’s eyebrows furrowed. As much as she wanted to ask more about it, she didn’t dare. Even if Mitch was going to be a big part of her life, she didn’t have the courage to ask something personal in front of strangers. Where was the mother? Maybe she died while giving birth. Maybe she ran off with another man. Maybe there was a scandal in his past which prevented women from wanting to marry him.

  The preacher picked up his book and motioned for Heather and Mitch to go over to him. She stepped forward and waited as Mitch stood beside her. Whatever circumstances were in his past, she’d just deal with it. Sometimes things happened that weren’t ideal, but it seemed to her that he was trying to make the situation right and that’s what mattered. He could have lied, said he had a wife, and took advantage of her as soon as he got her home.

  Assured that she had been right about his moral character, she listened to the preacher and repeated her vows when it was her turn. When he pronounced them husband and wife, she turned to Mitch and closed her eyes. She felt his lips brush hers, but the action was so fast, she almost missed it. Surprised, she opened her eyes, wondering if that was all there was to a kiss.

  Mitch shook the preacher’s hand. “Thank you, Preacher Higgins.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Mitch,” he replied before glancing Heather’s way. “Mitch is a good man. You won’t be sorry you married him.”

  She thought that was a curious thing for him to say if Mitch did have a scandal in his past. Maybe Mitch changed his ways and the preacher didn’t look at his past but at who he was now. In that case, she thought it was nice of the preacher. Not everyone adopted that attitude.

  “We’ll see you on Sunday,” Mitch told him.

  Despite her apprehension, she nodded. It’d been a long time since she’d been inside a church. She couldn’t remember much of what she was supposed to do, except dress nice.

  Mitch turned to her. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Yes,” she replied, fiddling with her hair.

  When he indicated he’d follow her out the door, she headed out of the house, wondering what the future had in store for her.

  Chapter Three

  Mitch wasn’t sure what to make of the sudden change of events. When he went to get Boaz out of trouble, the last thing he expected to end up with was a wife, but here he was, leaving the preacher’s house as a married man. And Heather was such a pretty thing, too. She was much better looking than Hannah, and he didn’t think he’d ever love anyone after she chose to marry Boaz instead
of him. He had no idea going to a saloon could turn into such a profitable venture. He just hoped that Heather didn’t regret her decision.

  After he and Heather made it to his horse, he slowly untied the reins, careful not to give away the fact that he was studying her in the moonlight. He got a good view of her profile as she stared down at her hands. The cloak was wrapped around her body, so he didn’t know how the rest of her looked, but she was definitely an attractive woman. Soft flowing dark hair that reached halfway down her back, rosy lips that seemed to have a slight pout, deep brown eyes, and an elegant nose. He found it hard to believe she didn’t have a man or two vying to court her.

  Well, whatever the situation, he figured it didn’t matter now. She’d wanted to marry him, and he warned her what she was getting herself into. He cleared his throat and waited until she looked at him before he spoke. “I live quite a ways out. It’s too far to walk. I hope you don’t mind sitting on my lap.”

  “No, of course not,” she replied.

  With a nod, he got up on the horse before holding his hand out to her. She slipped her hand in his, and he helped her up until she was on his lap. She wiggled against him until she was comfortable, and whether she was aware of it or not, his body responded to her. Her cloak might be hiding her curves from his sight, but it didn’t stop him from feeling them. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, something that made his body surge with pleasure.

  The ride home was going to feel longer than he was used to. He just knew it. Bracing himself for the long trek ahead, he urged his stallion forward, ever mindful of the way she jiggled against him. Her body was soft. It seemed to mold well into his. He tried not to think about it as the horse cantered out of town and onto the path that led out to his ranch. But that was hard to do when he couldn’t recall feeling anything as wonderful as a woman’s body pressed against his.

  He cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn’t betray his excitement. “It’ll take a half hour before we’re home.”

  “What is your home like?” she softly asked, her head resting nicely against his shoulder.