Page 2 of Their Wanted Bride (Bridgewater Brides 1)

“I want to place an ad in the newspapers,” Caleb replied. “Justin and I are looking for a wife.”

“No, we’re not!”

“Trust me. I have an idea.” Caleb winked at me, his expression reminding me of all the times he’d gotten us into trouble as boys. I swear, my mama must have worn out her arm giving us our lickings.

“Oh, that’s exciting,” Laurann said, her brown eyes sparkling. “I’ll let the reverend know y’all are fixing to have a wedding.”

Sighing, I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to remind Caleb about what happened the last time he got a wild hair and decided to take a wife. Truth be told, I wasn’t too sorry about that. It hadn’t occurred to us to share a wife back then, but Carrie objected to our friendship and demanded he choose her over me. She was spoiled and willful, and had her eye only on Caleb’s family farm. Thankfully, she’d shown her true feelings before the wedding.

“I thought you were done having ideas,” I muttered, knowing I was going to go along with his plan. Nothing would come of it, but if it made him happy, I was willing to let him have his fun.

His face tightened as if he’d heard what I didn’t say. “We’re gonna do things different this time.”

Blinking, I scanned the words he’d written, then laughed outright. “You got dropped on your head as a baby, didn’t you?”

His face reddening, he grinned and handed the paper to Laurann. “Aren’t you tired of sleeping alone? Don’t you want a wife between us to keep warm during those long winter nights?”

Damnation. I nodded as a flush of heat traveled down my spine to lodge in my balls. “Wouldn’t that be fine? Not sure asking a woman to bring nothing but a horse and saddle is going to get us a wife though.”

“I got a feeling about this,” he replied, grabbing a few cigars from the bin on the counter and paying for them.

“Maybe we should go back to that brothel in Butte and find Tessa. Remember her?”

He smiled fondly at the memory, but shook his head. “I sent her a letter. She’s already married to a homesteader in Oklahoma.”

“I’m happy for her.” Tessa was a good girl with iridescent blue eyes and a heart as big as the heavens. She deserved the joy of a husband of her own.

We left the store and retrieved our horses. Caleb’s mare snapped, making him dance out of the way of her teeth. “I have a good feeling about this. Should have done it months ago. I’ll wager she shows up before the weather turns, and we’ll have ourselves a wife. In fact, when we get home, I’m going to get started on building our marriage bed.”

Laughing, I caught my own horse against the hitching post and jumped gracelessly into the saddle before he threw me. “Better make it a big one,” I advised, “I got a powerful need to give our wife some loving.”

The idea of getting a woman, our woman, between us made my cock hard. Who would claim her first? Would Caleb want her pussy while I took her ass? She’d scream her pleasure, calling out both our names as we made her come while she rode our cocks.

What would such a woman look like? She’d be tall with generous curves, and strong enough to bear the two of us as we fucked her to sated bliss. She’d have brown eyes and plump lips sweet as honeycomb bowed up into a perpetual smile Caleb and I would put on her face after a night of hard fucking. We were generous lovers and we’d see her well satisfied. Day and night. Straightening my shoulders, I led the way out of town, spurring my horse into a lope. Maybe it was a fool’s dream, but sometimes Caleb’s feelings were right. If that meant we’d get a bride, then I was all for it.

Maddy

* * *

“No, no, no, Madelaine! A lady glides when she walks. She does not tramp about like a hired hand.”

I made one last attempt to catch the book perched on my head, then flinched at the sharp whistle of a cane cutting through the air. A line of fire lit up my bottom, making me bite back an ugly curse as the heavy bible hit the floor.

Biting my lip against a pained cry, I kept my silence and knelt to pick it up, then straightened my spine. I refused to give Celeste the satisfaction of watching me rub away the sting from that blasted cane. My light cotton day dress did nothing to soften the harsh blow, and it would probably leave another welt on my backside.

Contrary to her words, the heels of Celeste’s smart boots beat a tattoo on the oak floor of the parlor as she marched up to me. “Your father’s last wish, God rest his soul, was to see you suitably married, and you take every opportunity to thwart me.”

Celeste wasn’t worth the trouble of an answe

r. The men she presented were boring as dry toast. They wanted a pretty girl who would stay silent and bear children. I was sure it was necessary one like her husband, but vague distaste was the best I could muster for my stepmother’s choices.

I wanted a husband, but being silent and biddable was not one of my gifts. My future husband didn’t have to be handsome or wealthy. I wanted someone who could make me smile like I had a secret. My best friend Dahlia grinned and blushed every time her husband Reggie laid a gentle hand on the back of her neck and stroked a finger across her jaw. I got an achy, hot itch deep in my belly when I watched them together.

What would it be like to share a man’s bed? I’d seen horses mate uncountable times, but I thought it must be more. A hurried rut wouldn’t make Dahlia smile like that.

Celeste swished the cane at my face, making me jump backward and stumble over a chair. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Madelaine O’Connor?”

That was enough of that. Celeste had put one too many lines on my bottom, some of which had scarred. Narrowing my eyes, I caught my balance and snatched the cane away from her. Breaking it over my knee, I said, “Yes. I’m not a child anymore. If you hit me again, I will shove that cane so far up your backside you won’t have to worry about your posture ever again.”

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