“We would do it again, Lizzie,” Logan added. “You belong to us now, and we will protect you with our lives.”
I blinked back tears—damn them!—as I considered their words. “Was Jenkins really that bad?”
From the tightness in their jaws and the way Logan clenched his fists, I had my answer.
I wasn’t content, was not ready to absolve them of what they’d done. But the rage, the shame that nearly choked me had weakened from a raging flood to a slow trickle. I’d think on their words, consider all they had said. Even if I went back to Hayes and confronted Mr. Jenkins, I was still married to Ford.
I was his for—oh, my God. I wasn’t married to Ford. I was married, by proxy, to Mr. Jenkins. I had the paper in my bag to prove it. The man at the newspaper had signed it for me to take, ensuring that Mr. Jenkins could not return me.
“What is it, sweetheart? You’ve gone pale.”
The men were too perceptive for their own good. These men had gone to great lengths to save me from marrying Mr. Jenkins and all their work was for nothing. They’d fucked me when I belonged to another. I tried not to laugh at the sick humor. I was truly tainted. I’d lain with them and I wasn’t married to them. Yes, I’d shared my body with them when I believed Ford to be my husband. Ford and Logan had taken my innocence while believing I was Ford’s legal wife. We had all been mistaken.
The truth was, I was Mrs. Samuel Jenkins. Legally, I had married the man before I ever set foot on that back-breaking, bone-rattling stagecoach.
What was I going to do? I couldn’t go back to Mr. Jenkins. Not now, knowing what I did about him and his sons. I couldn’t run away. The money I had wouldn’t last long, and even if I could escape, if I left these men I might never see my sisters again. I was well and truly trapped, doomed no matter what choice I made. Just like that damn mouse in the hawk’s killing grip.
God, what were Ford and Logan going to say when they discovered the truth?
A shiver sped up and down my spine and I closed my eyes against the cold chill racing over my skin.
First, I had to reunite with my sisters. After that, I’d figure out what to do about my marital status. My predicament was utterly absurd. Never had I heard tale of a woman who had not just one, but three men who could claim to be her husband. If my pious uncle thought me reckless and wanton before, he’d most likely die of apoplexy if he could see me now. One man’s seed coating my thighs, another’s down my throat, and a third man actually my legal husband.
Logan and Ford both watched me with concern and I shook my head, hiding my thoughts behind a heavy yawn. I had no idea what to do. I needed time.
“Nothing. I think I’m just tired,” I replied, trying not to let my panic show. Based on what they said, I didn’t want to be Mrs. Jenkins. But I wasn’t sure I had much choice. I blinked against the grit in my eyes, leftover from the trail, and what felt like a thousand tears.
Neither man touched me as they walked with me back to the blanket. They tucked me beneath a second blanket and made sure I was comfortable. “Where are we going tomorrow?” I asked.
Ford stroked my hair out of my face as I closed my eyes. “Bridgewater. Tomorrow we go to Bridgewater and start our lives together.”
Together, but with a tainted, already married woman.
Chapter Nine
Ford
I expected Lizzie to be subdued, to work through the truth of the situation and come to terms with her new life. I could only imagine how overwhelmed she felt, coming off the stage and then marrying within a matter of hours. Only later, she discovered she’d been tricked—even if it was in her best interest—into marrying someone else, only to find out that her new husband shared her body and claim with his closest friend.
I’d always assumed we’d court our bride slowly, give her time to adjust to the notion of two husbands, to fall in love with us and want to be with us as desperately as we wanted to be with her.
Circumstances ensured that was not the case. Bloody fucking hell. The only way to make this fiasco any worse is if Jenkins came after us. I didn’t expect that to happen, for I had signed my real name in the church’s ledger. Jenkins would have no reason to link us to his bride, as the group I travelled with had only been in town for a couple of days to rest and purchase supplies. We were strangers, just passing through. No one knew us or where we were headed. Our final destination, Bridgewater Ranch, was not well known or nearby. And the three women had been separated from the group. Even if they tracked the wagon, they wouldn’t find Lizzie or her sisters.
But then, according to Lizzie’s confession in the hotel hallway, Jenkins wasn’t expecting three women, just one. And that one special woman was now with us.
No, with both Hayes and Samuel Jenkins behind us, Logan and I just needed to be patient and let Lizzie accustom herself to it all. To us. I had to hope that having her meet the other Bridgewater brides would help.
Once Lizzie had fallen asleep, Logan and I agreed we’d push through to Bridgewater instead of spending a second night on the trail. The sooner we were settled, the better it would be for all of us.
We kept watch, splitting the long hours, one of us holding Lizzie safely in our arms as the other stood guard. Lizzie woke with the dawn and was eager to be reunited with her sisters. We rode hard all day and arrived at Bridgewater’s stable just in time for the evening meal.
On our approach, two men came out of the large building. We knew the ranch was well established; money was not a concern with these men. Kane was a nobleman, the same as I. Funds weren’t unlimited, but damn close. Out here in the territory, so was our freedom to live as we saw fit.
I hadn’t seen Whitmore Kane since we were in Mohamir, three years ago. It had been an unpleasant time, for our commander had killed a Mohamiran family and framed Kane’s best friend, Ian, for the crime. He, along with Kane and several others, fled Mohamir directly for America. The remainder of the regiment, myself and Logan included, finished our service but chose not to re-enlist. Despite the fact that Ian had vanished, he was found guilty and sentenced to hang for his alleged crimes. Logan and I knew the truth and chose not just to leave our dishonest commander, but also the government that failed to fully investigate his crimes. Kane’s invitation to join him in the Montana Territory was simply too tempting to refuse.
Kane grinned at our arrival and hugged us fiercely. “Reinforcements have arrived. I was worried that we’d lose the advantage with all the Americans homesteading around here. Good to have some fine English blood around.”
Kane was tall and dark, very similar in appearance to me, but I was somewhat rough around the edges, he more refined. Despite being born a marquess, I gave the appearance of a rake or the untamed pirate Lizzie had named me.