Page 38 of Their Wanted Bride (Bridgewater Brides 1)

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JUSTIN

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I resisted the urge to pull Maddy into my arms and kiss her soundly. Caleb couldn’t do it either, not with so many people around. It didn’t stop him from brushing his lips over her forehead.

Lord have mercy, I wanted to tie Nathan Bergman into a knot and beat him with a stick for what he’d tried. Knowing he’d get off scot free didn’t sit well, but there wasn’t much we could do. We had no evidence, aside from an overheard conversation.

“Your honor,” Caleb said. “I would like the sheriff’s assistance in getting Maddy’s stepmother evicted from my property.”

“Granted.”

“No! That’s my home!” Celeste cried.

Caleb left me with Maddy and sauntered toward her, his blue eyes like chips of ice. “Really?” he asked in a silky voice. “Let’s see if I remember this correctly. You were talking with Mr. Bergman over there in the saloon, and—”

“Shut your mouth,” she hissed, panic filling her suddenly pallid face.

“As you say,” he agreed, his expression hard. “I suggest you pack your things. I want you out before sunset.”

We took Maddy home. Not to a tiny cottage in Montana, but to a palatial estate house on a hill surrounded by rich meadows and farmland. Whitewashed split rail fence surrounded divided pastures containing fat cattle and sleek horseflesh.

I pictured our wife sitting in one of the bentwood rockers on the expansive porch, a cigar in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. The house was grand, and I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to stay.

“Maddy, we can build you a veranda—”

“Maybe next summer.” She walked into the house like a queen and went to the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, she retrieved a brown bottle. Instead of bothering with a glass, she tipped it up and pulled several swallows, then handed it to me. “Go on,” she urged. “Aside from that bourbon, Kentucky can go hang itself.”

The liquor flowed like heated silk down my throat. I grinned and handed it to Caleb. “Does that mean you’re coming home?”

“It depends.” She turned to face the window looking out over a pasture.

“On what?” Caleb asked, kissing her neck.

“Will you have me?” She turned to face us, her pretty face solemn. “I lied to both of you.”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” I gave her the bottle, then kissed her, tracing her lower lip with my tongue. “Were you going to tell us about your father’s bequest?”

“I was,” she said firmly. “But then…” Her voice trailed off and she looked down.

“Then?” Caleb prompted.

“I was so happy, and I didn’t…I was afraid you’d want to live here, and I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay in Montana.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have,” I murmured. “We’ll sell this place and take you home where you belong.”

Caleb and I shared a glance. We wouldn’t ever tell Maddy what we’d overheard in the saloon. She didn’t need to know, and it would hurt her.

A door slammed, making Caleb scowl. “But first we have to get rid of the squatter,” he grumbled in irritation.

“Sit,” I urged Maddy. “We’ll deal with Celeste.”

“No. I need to do this.” She straightened her spine and her chin went up. I’d never been prouder of a person in my life. All the blood in my body rushed to my hardening shaft, reminding me we’d have our wife in our bed tonight.

She strode into the entryway, her face set with determination as she faced down her nemesis. “Get your clothes and personal belongings, Celeste. I want you out of my house.”

“How dare you?” Celeste puffed out her chest and strode across the room, then lifted her parasol. Her intent was clear, but we wouldn’t allow her to strike our wife.

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