Mail Order Bride - Westward Visions: Historical Cowboy Romance Novel (Montana Mail Order Brides Book 12) Read online

  I believe that you would make a good husband for Whispering Brook and I know that she will be a good wife to you. As you can imagine, she is scared about leaving home and all she has known. I would ask for you to be patient with her and do your best to reassure her that all will be well.

  Brook, as we call her, is our only daughter and very beloved. I have agreed to let the two of your exchange letters until the weather is clear enough for us to make the trip to Montana. We are planning on leaving at the end of April. This will allow you to get to know more about each other. I am relying on your honor that there will be no inappropriate topics discussed. Brook has been instructed to tell us if there is, so I caution you about doing so.

  Respectfully,

  Falcon Talon

  Reckless smiled at Falcon’s letter. He admired the man for being protective of his daughter. It was a good thing. It showed that he was thinking more of his daughter than the bride price. He opened the second envelope.

  Dear Reckless,

  Abby’s letter about you was a surprise, as was your offer of marriage. You have impressed my parents and also me to some extent. I only say that because I do not know a lot about you. That is why I asked if we could write to each other and become more acquainted.

  It makes me feel hopeful that you would accept me despite my white heritage. I will tell you the reason that many men here do not want me as a bride.

  Falcon and Wolf Song are my adopted parents. My birth mother was a cousin of Wolf Song’s and she was attacked by a soldier who had happened upon her in the woods. She became pregnant with me. She was never the same after that and she took her own life when I was two.

  Falcon and Wolf Song are the only parents I have ever known and I love them as such. I have an older brother, White Cloud. My other brother was lost to us in a Pawnee raid a few years ago, and that’s all I’ll say about that. Most of the braves in the village view me as bad medicine because my birth mother committed suicide. They think that I’ll do something to bring dishonor to their families or that any children I have will be tainted somehow.

  I am almost twenty and I have never been courted. This is hard for me to admit because by this age, most maidens have been offered marriage. I am sure you are curious about what I look like. I have brown hair the color of an acorn and blue eyes the color of a robin’s egg. I am taller than Abby.

  I am strong and will make a good wife and mother. I am neat and a good cook. My bead and quill work has been admired by many people and they often ask me to do work for them. Abby taught us a lot of English and we learned to read and write from some other white friends.

  What is it like to work in a white business and what do you do exactly? What is your family like? How did you come by your horses? I don’t mean to be rude. I am curious about you. I look forward to hearing from you.

  With respect,

  Whispering Brook

  Reckless frowned as he folded the letter and put it in his coat pocket. His heart went out to Whispering Brook. Her situation reminded him of his Uncle Marcus. He, too, was of mixed blood, his father being Lakota and his mother white. Reckless’ grandfather had raped Marcus’ mother and Marcus had come along nine months later.

  That Brook was looked upon in such a negative light, despite the fact that her mother’s suicide wasn’t her fault, greatly disturbed Reckless. If anything, it should make people more sympathetic towards her. Obviously Brook was smart since she could read and write. He respected her for being upfront about all of this. Reckless could see that she was honest; a quality that he demanded in a wife after his bad experience with a local white girl.

  Rachel Crispin, whom he’d dated for close to three years, had told lies about Reckless that had called his honor into question. Luckily, the truth had come out and his good reputation had stayed intact. Rachel refused to live in his world and he refused to live in hers, so marriage had been out of the question. After their breakup, Rachel had moved to Canada, and Reckless had moved on.

  However, he’d learned his lesson and decided that although he was not prejudiced in the least against white people, he didn’t want to repeat his experience with Rachel. Therefore, he’d decided to seek a relationship with only a Lakota maiden. He felt it would save a lot of heartache and time.

  Reckless put his coat in Jake’s office and went into the barroom to immediately be confronted by Charlie. He was a big man with a square jaw and blue eyes. His dark ginger hair tended to be a little wild and added to his intimidating appearance.

  “There ye be,” he said to Reckless. “I was lookin’ for ya, Boyo.”

  Reckless schooled his face into an emotionless mask, as the Lakota were skilled in doing. He hated being called “Boyo” because of the negative connotation. Charlie knew it and tried to goad Reckless into fighting by using it. Reckless wasn’t going to give Charlie the satisfaction tonight, however.

  “What did you want?” Reckless asked.

  Charlie shrugged. “It’s slow. Look at that waster over there,” he said, as he jutted his chin towards the other side of the barroom.

  Reckless turned his gaze where Charlie had indicated, thinking again that he should have Charlie write down his Irish terms so he could learn them all. He’d come to know that “waster” meant someone who was lazy or no good. He allowed a half smile to curve his lips as he saw Rick sitting at a table where the bouncers often congregated.

  The deputy sat with his chair tipped back against the wall and his feet propped up on the table. His arms were crossed over his chest and his worn, black leather hat pulled down over his eyes. This was a deceptive pose, Reckless knew. The brave was able to walk silently, yet Rick always knew when he was trying to sneak up on him.

  There was something spooky about Rick and he put people on edge just by being around sometimes. Reckless was daring and creative, but Rick was a complete wildcard and as unpredictable as the Montana weather. Despite looking as though he was taking a nap, Rick was completely alert and ready for action at a moment’s notice.

  Charlie shook his head. “How’s he get away with that?”

  Reckless said, “I keep telling you that Rick is awake even though it looks like he’s not. Go on. See if I am wrong.”

  “All right. I’ll just do that,” Charlie said, and began walking in Rick’s direction. He stepped as quietly as a man of his size could. About five feet from Rick’s table, Rick pulled a gun almost faster than Charlie’s eyes could follow and said, “That’s far enough, Charles. I’m not in the mood for a fight tonight, so don’t even think about it.”

  “How’d you know it was me?” Charlie said, as he looked at the business end of the revolver.

  Rick never tipped his hat up as he said, “It’s your breathing. I can hear you across the room. It’s a very distinctive and annoying sound. Sort of reminds me of a boar rooting around in the ground.”

  Charlie scowled at Rick’s insults. “Well, what am I supposed to do about that?”

  “I didn’t say you were supposed to do anything about it. I was just answering your question. Did you want something, or are you just here to piss me off?” Rick said. He put his gun away, but made no other movement.

  “Just makin’ sure ya be awake,” Charlie said.

  “Well, I’m awake. Go away,” Rick said.

  Abby trotted over to his table and a smile spread across Rick’s angular face. He tipped his hat up and said, “There she is. Did you read that book?”

  Abby sat down in one of the other chairs and said, “You bet I did, and it was fascinating. I have so many questions for you about it. When can we talk about it?” Her bright blue eyes showed her excitement.

  “Lunch tomorrow. Noon. Meet me at the Grady House. You know where we sit. Bring the little people,” Rick said. This is what he called children, and he adored them.

  “Okay. I’ll see you there. I’ll let you get back to work. Sorry for disturbing you,” Abby said.

  “Abby, you know you never disturb me. You can talk to me anytime,” Ri
ck said.

  “Okay. Thanks,” she said. “Hi, Charlie.” She squeezed one of Charlie’s biceps and scampered off.

  “How come she can talk to ya, but ya don’t wanna talk to me?” Charlie asked.

  Rick cocked his head at Charlie and said, “Because I like her.”

  “What’s her husband think about your little meetings?” Charlie asked with a sneer.

  “Elliot is completely fine with it. Are you implying that there’s something inappropriate about me discussing books with Abby in a public place where there are plenty of people present at lunch time?” Rick said, and put his elbows on the table. Though the movement was subtle, there was something menacing about it. His coffee brown eyes looked into Charlie’s.

  Charlie shrugged. “No. Just wonderin’. Go back to yer nap.”

  “Thanks. Don’t mind if I do,” Rick said. He resumed his previous position and put his hat back down over his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.

  Reckless smiled as he watched Rick and Charlie. He knew Charlie was going to be angry and ready to fight after being dealt with by Rick. Reckless was certain that Rick had insulted Charlie in some way. He usually did. Rick made it no secret that he disliked Charlie and told Jake to fire him on a regular basis.

  Reckless moved in the opposite direction Charlie did, so he ended up at Rick’s table.

  Rick smiled again, but didn’t move. “There’s the other one. How’s Reckless tonight?”

  “Fine. Sorry, but I sicced Charlie on you,” Reckless said.

  “I know. It’s okay. I can handle him. I hate him, but I can handle him,” Rick said.

  Sitting down, Reckless asked, “Why do you not like him?”

  “He’s stupid and he stinks. I’ve never seen someone sweat as much as him. He never wears a coat because he’s too hot. I think he should move to Alaska and be a logger or something. He’d be in his element there, and we’d be left in peace,” Rick said, and then laughed softly.

  Reckless laughed with him. “He doesn’t sweat that much.”

  “Are you kidding me? You watch. By the end of the night, his shirt’s going to be soaked,” Rick disagreed.

  “If Joe heard that, he’d bet on it,” Reckless said with a laugh.

  “Probably. Hey, table over in the right far corner. An argument’s brewing. Keep an eye on it,” Rick said.

  Reckless watched the table Rick spoke about. Sure enough, three men began pointing and shouting at each other. The two bouncers let it go to see if things were going to get out of hand. They normally didn’t interfere unless signs of violence were imminent. Charlie tended to jump the gun and did so in this case as well.

  Rick sighed. “There goes Red.”

  Charlie stomped towards the table and yelled at them to shut up. The three men grumbled but settled down again in the face of Charlie’s anger. Reckless grunted.

  “I agree,” Rick said.

  It stayed quiet the rest of the night and Reckless rode home with Abby. It was something he’d done ever since Jake had hired him to be her escort four years ago. They kept their horses moving at a fast trot to get to Abby’s house faster.

  “So you didn’t tell me what you thought of Whispering Brook,” Abby said. “Isn’t she great? I just love her. She’ll be a good wife and mother. You’ll see. When are they coming? I can’t wait to see them again. I’ve missed them. Wolf Song and Falcon will be good in-laws.”

  Reckless smiled. “Abby, I have only read one letter, but she does seem like what I’m looking for.”

  “She is. She’s perfect for you. When you asked me about young women in my Minnesota tribe, I thought of Brook right away,” Abby said.

  “So you have said. They are planning on leaving at the end of the, er, April. They will most likely get here around the middle of May. Possibly later,” Reckless said.

  “Now I’m even more anxious for spring!” Abby said, and let out one her excited squeals.

  His horse’s ears swung back against its head in response to the noise.

  Laughing, Reckless said, “Abby, you are hurting my horse’s ears. You sound like a rabbit being killed.”

  “I’m sorry, horse,” she said as she reached over to pet its neck. “Why don’t you name your horses like everyone else?”

  “Who says that I don’t?” Reckless said as he arched a brow in her direction.

  “Me. I’ve never heard you call your horse a name. Owl has Swift and Hannah has Prancer. Mine is Gopher, although how he got that name, I don’t know. He came with it. Marcus has Rosie, Arrow, and, well, I forget the other horses’ names, but you get my point. All of Joe’s horses have names. Usually something Shakespearian,” Abby said.

  “I name my horses, Abby.”

  “Sure. So what are these names?” Abby said.

  Reckless moved his horse away from hers so he was out of arm’s reach as he said, “One, two, three, four—”

  “Reckless! Those aren’t names! You can’t name your horse a number! How awful!” Abby said.

  Reckless’ laugh rang out. “Gotcha! I have no need to name them. They do not care if they have a name as long as I feed them.”

  “You have no soul, Reckless,” Abby said. “Poor horse. Well, I’m going to give your horse a name. I just have to think of one.” She looked over at the handsome paint stallion. “Patches. No, not virile enough. Your horse is a proud stallion.”

  Reckless looked around as though he could care less, but he was barely restraining a smile as Abby thought out loud. Her thought process was always amusing.

  “Brown and white. Brownie? No. That’s just stupid. He doesn’t look like a dessert. Um, virile, virile…Thor! There’s a virile name!” Abby declared.

  Reckless asked, “Who or what is ‘Thor’?”

  “He’s a Norse god who was very, very powerful and carried a magic hammer. He controls thunder and storms and is a symbol of great strength,” Abby said.

  “A god, huh?” Reckless thought about what she’d said a moment. “It is a good name. Thor will be fine.”

  Abby stared at him. “Really? You’re going to actually call him that?”

  “Yes. Thank you for naming my horse,” Reckless said.

  “I thought I was going to have to argue with you about it,” she said.

  “Abby, I have learned long ago that it is useless to argue with you,” he replied.

  Abby eyed him for a moment. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  “It is a compliment to your husband,” Reckless said, and moved away again.

  Abby smiled. “How so?”

  “He is the only one I know who has the energy to out-think or out-talk you,” Reckless responded.

  “Shame on you!”

  Reckless laughed as they stopped in front of her and Elliot’s house. “Goodnight, Abby.”

  Abby dismounted and gave Reckless her horse’s reins so he could drop it off at the stable, as he did every night.

  “This isn’t over,” she said with a smile.

  “I never thought it was,” Reckless said, and waited until she was safely inside.

  Chapter Three

  Would he write back? Did she want him to? Why did she care? What if he hated my letter and withdraws his offer? Is he nice? Is he mean?

  Brook tried to force her mind back to her quilling, but the questions kept circling around in her brain. She poked her finger with a sharp quill and cursed internally. Trying to think about something else, she began her work again. Her fingers moved nimbly as she secured red quills onto the front of a new shirt for her father.

  That the shirt was for Falcon only reminded her that he had gone into Wabasha again, and she wondered if he would come back with mail. She sighed and put down her work. Wolf Song saw and smiled.

  “What is wrong, daughter?” she asked, although she suspected she knew the answer.

  Brook kept her head bowed as she said, “I am afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “What if he no longer wants to marry me, and what
if he does?” Brook said.

  Wolf Song chuckled. “Which do you think would be worse?”

  “I don’t know. If I knew him, if I had actually met him, I would know. But I am at a disadvantage because of the great distance between us,” Brook said.

  Wolf Song nodded. “Yes. That is true. You must rely on letters, something we do not normally do. You must pray for guidance, that Wakan Tanka will help you see that which you cannot see on your own.”

  Brook was silent as she picked up the shirt again. “I wish Father was back. Perhaps there is mail today.”

  Wolf Song was curious as well, so she could hardly fault her daughter for feeling the same way. “Perhaps.”

  When her father did return, Brook refrained from asking if there were any letters. She greeted him and started the evening meal. Falcon and Wolf Song exchanged amused looks. They knew from her careful avoidance of the subject how much she wondered if a letter had come.

  Without saying a word, Falcon took a letter from his coat and sat it down in front of Brook.

  “I found this on the way home. It was given to me by a snowshoe rabbit. I am not sure what a rabbit would want with it, so I brought it home to you,” he teased his daughter.

  She smiled at him. “That sounds like the kind of story you used to tell me when I was small.”

  “So it does. Now, hurry and read that so that your mother may find out all it says,” Falcon said.

  “My husband implies that I am nosy, I think,” Wolf Song said as she smiled.

  Falcon grunted. “I am not implying anything. I am saying it is so.”

  “Perhaps my husband will find himself divorced the next time he comes home,” Wolf Song replied.

  Falcon laughed softly. “I think not. No other man would put up with your nosiness, wife.”

  Brook smiled at their playful banter. It did her heart good to see how much they still loved each other. Maybe she would have as much luck as they had. She put on her heavy shawl and said, “We need more wood. I will go get some.”