Jasper's Runaway Bride, page 1
JASPER’S RUNAWAY BRIDE
MARGERY SCOTT
Copyright © 2018 by Margery Scott
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
BOOKS BY MARGERY SCOTT
About the Author
Chapter 1
Boston, Massachusetts
“You will marry Hubert, and I don’t want to hear another word about it. He’s a good match for you, and we all know there aren’t any other suitors lining up to ask for your hand in marriage.”
Lynna Spiers smoothed a fold in the French lace veil draped across her four-poster bed and raised her head to meet her mother’s stern expression. “But Mama … he’s so old … and he’s so …”
Hubert Deline was at least in his late forties, more than twice her age. And twice her size, she added to herself. It wouldn’t do to mention the size of the man’s belly and his already fleshy jowls. Her mother would point out how shallow she was. She’d remind her that the man was a wealthy landowner who’d chosen her to be his wife and that she should be grateful she wouldn’t be a spinster for the rest of her life.
She should be, she supposed, but after what her mother had told her the night before about marriage … and what happened on the wedding night … the thought of him kissing her, touching her …
She shuddered.
“What’s wrong with you?” Her mother’s brow creased in a frown. “Are you sick?”
Lynna shook her head. She was sick, but not in the way her mother thought. She felt physically ill at the thought of sharing Hubert’s bed.
Did it make her vain that she wanted to marry a man who was reasonably physically fit, not repulsively obese? Whose lips didn’t remind her of a fish? Not that he’d ever kissed her or that she’d had much personal experience with fish, but whenever he spoke, a vision of a fish she’d once seen gasping for breath, its lips flapping, popped into her head.
“Personally,” her mother went on, “I’m surprised he wants to marry you since you have no dowry to speak of. Why, you know he’s been very generous with our family since your nuptials were arranged.”
This was the first Lynna had heard of his ‘generosity’. What did that mean exactly? She had noticed changes for the better around their home lately, but was that due to Hubert’s money? Had he basically …bought her?
Her mother let out a frustrated sigh. “Now stop being so foolish and finish dressing. Hubert is waiting in the garden to accompany you to the church. You have thirty minutes. Do not be late. The guests are waiting.”
Her mother spun around on her heel and marched out. The door closed softly behind her, but to Lynna, it might as well have been a prison door clanging shut.
Marriage to Hubert Deline would be a life sentence of misery, and quite possibly, abuse. He’d already been married twice. His first wife had “gone to visit family” one night and had never returned. A short time later, he’d supposedly received a telegram that she had become ill and passed away. Lynna remembered his second wife, too, always with a fearful expression on her face. Lynna had often suspected there were bruises beneath the high collars and long sleeves the woman wore even in the heat of the summer. Then one day, she’d had an ‘accident’ and died, but because of his wealth and status in the community, it had never been investigated by the local constabulary.
Lynna slowly made her way to the window, the soft silk of her wedding gown swishing on the polished floor. With one finger, she nudged the curtain back and looked down onto the garden.
She’d always loved the view from her bedroom window at this time of year – the large manicured lawn, the abundance of flowers in full bloom and the perfumed air, and the wrought iron chairs and small table where she’d often sat, dreaming of her future.
Now, her future had been decided by her parents and Hubert. She would be Hubert’s chattel, his property, to do with as he pleased.
A cold chill washed over her. What would happen to her when he tired of her?
She caught sight of Hubert standing with her parents near the fountain in the center of the stone path leading to the front door. He was nodding at something her father was saying, and her mother was smiling.
She glanced at the clock on the bureau. She was running out of time.
Her throat tightened and her heart began to race. It was difficult to even draw a breath. Her vision began to swim, and she held onto the edge of the bureau to prevent herself from falling. She recognized the sensations surging through her. She’d suffered from the same symptoms several times when she’d been in Hubert’s company. He called it ‘her delicate constitution’ but she knew it for what it was. Panic!
She couldn’t marry him.
She just couldn’t.
She’d never once disobeyed her parents – at least not that they were aware of. She had had a rebellious streak, but she’d kept it well hidden. They’d always dominated her, told her what to eat, what to wear, how to act. And she’d always allowed them to control every aspect of her life – at least most of the time. She’d never even argued back. But now …
If she was old enough to be a married woman, to manage a household and to be a mother within the next year or two, surely she was old enough to make her own decisions. Wasn’t she?
And the first adult decision she was going to make was to run.
Now.
She doubted Hubert would be hurt, but he would certainly be furious. As for her parents, she’d miss them dreadfully, and they would be humiliated, but hopefully, one day they’d find it in their hearts to forgive her.
She had to leave before it was too late. She had no choice.
She didn’t have time to pack a valise or to even change her clothes. If she wasn’t downstairs within the next few minutes, her mother would come looking for her.
She had to be far away by the time they discovered she was gone.
Silver City, Colorado
Jasper Morrison nursed a cup of coffee in his sister, Deirdre’s, kitchen. The room was small, but bright and airy. A soft breeze carrying the perfume of the lilacs lining the side of the house drifted inside.
“The meeting at the bank in Denver went well,” he told her. “The note is paid and the manager told me they’d be happy to give me another loan if I need it.”
“That’s good news,” Deirdre said, “but I don’t understand why you didn’t just go to the bank in Rocky Ridge.”
“It’s too small. It didn’t have enough cash for me to do the expansion I wanted to do and to buy as much stock as I wanted to increase my herd. Denver really was the best option.”
“So you added more outbuildings?”
He nodded. “Another stable and barn, and bought another five hundred head of cattle. And I’ve still got enough money to make the repairs to the house and add on the extra rooms.”
Deirdre picked up a sugar cookie and nibbled on the edge. “The ranch is really growing. I won’t recognize it next time I visit.”
“It has changed since you were there last. It’s been quite a while.”
“It’s just a shame you don’t have anyone to share it with,” she muttered, hiding her face behind her own coffee cup. “
His brows arched. “Excuse me?”
“You’re building a legacy, but what’s the point? Why are you working so hard? You’re going to grow old in that big house all alone. And who’s going to carry on once you’re gone? You have no wife, no children to leave it to.”
That was true, but that was going to change. Until a few weeks ago, he hadn’t had time to think about getting married or having a family. He’d been busy. Every waking minute had been taken up with building the ranch. A year ago, he’d realized it had gotten too big for him to handle it all himself. He’d had to hire a dozen hands, then a foreman to oversee them so he could deal with the business of running the ranch and leaving most of the day-to-day chores to them. He still liked working with his hands, though, so he made time to do some of the chores himself.
“As a matter of fact, I have some news,” he said.
Deirdre’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you got married and didn’t tell me. If you did, I swear I’ll—”
“I didn’t, so don’t get yourself in a twist. But I did go to the new matrimonial agency in Rocky Ridge and send away for a mail-order bride from back east.”
Deirdre’s voice rose and her eyes widened to saucer-size. “You what? Why in Heaven’s name would you do that? What’s wrong with finding a woman the normal way? Surely there are some desperate women in town who’d marry you? You’re not that bad looking, and even though you’re pretty stuffy and—
“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes and grinned at his sister, fully aware she was teasing him. “There isn’t anyone in town I want to marry, so this was the next best thing.”
“But marrying a stranger … that’s such a gamble …”
“It is, but it can’t be any worse than marrying a woman I already know I don’t like, can it?”
“I suppose not …” She drew out the words. “Has this mail-order woman agreed to marry you?”
Jasper shook his head. “Not yet. We’ve been corresponding for a few weeks now. I’ve written a letter asking her to come west to marry me but I haven’t mailed it yet.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“Nothing.” That wasn’t exactly true. He’d written the letter, but something had stopped him going to the railway depot in Silver City and buying a ticket for her trip west.
Deirdre set her mug on the table, leaned back in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. “Well, to be honest, I’m not sure I like the idea, but I do want you to be settled with a wife and a family, and if this woman will make you happy, then I approve.”
She grinned. They both knew he didn’t need her approval.
“Thanks. And I promise,” he went on, “I won’t get married without inviting you to the wedding.”
“Good. Now, I need to get Jeremy up from his nap and take a package to put on the train. It will be here in an hour.”
Jasper drained his coffee and got up. “How big is the package?”
Deirdre crossed the room to a counter running the length of the room and came back a few seconds later with a small box. “This is it. Why?”
“Let Jeremy sleep. I’ll take it to the station for you. It’s small enough that I can carry it while I ride, and I have to get back to Rocky Ridge anyway. As it is, I’m later than I figured so if I don’t leave soon, I won’t get home before dark.”
Ten minutes later, after saying his goodbyes along with a promise to let her know if his mail-order bride accepted his proposal, Jasper mounted Fortune, his chestnut gelding, and made his way toward the train station.
Jasper had never been on a train, never even been close to one, but it seemed like an exciting way to travel. Maybe one day, he’d take a trip to California and see the ocean. He’d never seen the desert he’d heard about, either. Or … anywhere.
But if he was being completely honest with himself, he really wasn’t in any hurry to leave his ranch. He was content there … or as content as he would be once he had a wife and a family. He only hoped Edith would feel the same way.
He heard the train whistle in the distance as he tethered Fortune to a hitching post near a long wooden building that served as the railway depot.
The railroad had only come through Silver City since the year before, and already the population in town had more than doubled. He understood that it was progress, but he was glad he didn’t live in a city. He was happy on his ranch outside Rocky Ridge, where everybody knew him, where neighbors were friendly and helpful, and the air was clean, not tainted with coal smoke and fumes.
The package Deirdre had given him was going to Los Angeles. He had no idea how it would get there, but the balding man behind the counter didn’t seem concerned. He’d taken it, checked the address and Jasper had counted out the shipping cost.
Once their transaction was complete, Jasper tucked the receipt into his shirt pocket and turned to leave. He paused near the doorway, and for a few seconds, he considered turning back and buying the train ticket for Edith to come to him.
“Something else I can do for you?” the stationmaster’s voice called out from behind him.
He looked back, shook his head, and stepped outside . A warm breeze stirred the dust into small whirlwinds, and weeds and dry brush tumbled along the dirt beside the track as the train chugged into the station.
The whistle shrieked and the brakes squealed as it came to a stop.
Lynna was hungry. So hungry. And thirsty.
She opened the drawstrings of her blue silk reticule and reached inside, wrapping her fingers around the single coin she had left. She took it out and opened her hand to look at it. Not even enough to buy a cup of coffee.
She’d stolen a handful of bills from the hidden compartment in her father’s writing desk to make her escape, but after three days on the train, she’d realized she hadn’t taken enough. Of course, she hadn’t known how far away Colorado was and how long it would take to get there. Now, her money was gone other than that one coin.
When she’d tiptoed into the study and slipped the money into the reticule, she’d been sure she’d have enough left over after her journey west to find a respectable place to live and employment.
She’d been so wrong.
She could have cashed in her train ticket and disembarked the train in one of the towns closer to Boston, but decided against it. She needed to get as far away as she could.
She had no doubt Hubert or one of his hired men would come after her, and if they didn’t succeed he’d hire a detective to track her down. She’d humiliated him in front of his friends and business colleagues. He wasn’t the type of man to stand for her betrayal, which was how he’d interpret her action, or to be swindled, which was how he would think of her parents. He’d seek revenge or restitution.
She only hoped she’d be able to run far enough that he wouldn’t be able to find her and take her back. It also meant she couldn’t trust anyone. Hubert wasn’t above bribery to get what he wanted. She wouldn’t even be surprised if he put out a reward for information on her whereabouts.
“Next stop is yours, ma’am.”
Lynna looked up to see the kindly face of the train’s conductor. “Thank you.”
“You’re looking a bit peaked, if you don’t mind me saying so.” He peered at her face. “You have somebody meeting you in Silver City?”
She almost told him the truth, but at the last moment, she pasted a smile on her face. “I’m a bit tired from the trip, but I’m fine. I have family waiting for me,” she said. “I do thank you for your concern, though.”
“We’ll be pulling into the station in five minutes or so. Can I get your bags for you?”
“Oh … no … but thank you,” she said. “I can handle them quite well myself.” She couldn’t tell him she had no bags, that she’d fled in only the clothes she was wearing and money she’d stolen.
The conductor touched his finger to the brim of his hat and walked away.
A few minutes later, the whistle blew and the wheels screeched to a stop in front of a weathered building unlike any she’d ever seen before.
She stood up, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Her vision blurred. Gripping the back of her seat, she dropped back into the seat until it passed. This time, though, she knew it wasn’t panic that had brought on her symptoms.
She had to get off the train. If she was still on board when the train left the station and the conductor returned, she’d be arrested since she didn’t have a ticket. Then she’d be thrown in jail, which meant when Hubert caught up with her, she’d be trapped.
She couldn’t let that happen. She’d have to force herself to put one foot in front of the other until she was on dry land. Then, she could sit somewhere until she felt stronger.
She’d learned that deep breaths helped, so she forced herself to calm down, and then she stood up again. This time, although she was still a little unsteady on her feet, she managed to make her way to the end of the car and step down onto the ground.
“Have a nice day, ma’am,” the conductor said, then picked up the portable wooden step and set it down inside the train.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
Looking around, she realized the station was empty. A bench rested against the wall of the depot, so she climbed the three steps and crossed the wide wooden porch and sat down, folding her hands in her lap and taking in her surroundings. Not nearly as large as Boston, the town of Silver City was set far enough away from the railroad tracks to avoid the smell of the burning coal that came from the trains but close enough for the townspeople and passengers to easily reach the depot even on foot.
